


The Petals That Make a Rose

by kscho



Series: The Rose of Denerim [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, The sass is real, like seriously it's all over the place, this is what happens when I procrastinate actual work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 22,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscho/pseuds/kscho
Summary: Fun pieces that skip around the timelines of Rose's adventures during the Blight, as Warden-Commander, and as a guest of the Inquisition. These are the cringy, impulse pieces that were a lot of fun to write! <3





	1. A Rose for Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Refer to title*

“Here, look at this,” Alistair said, handing Rose a...rose. Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you know what this is?”

She couldn’t help it. A smile played across her lips as she looked at the flower. “Is this a trick question?” she joked.

His signature cocky expression flashed across his face, the one that never failed to make me giggle. “Yes, absolutely, I’m trying to trick you. Is it working? Aww, I just about had you, didn’t I?” I giggled again.

She looked at the rose again, smiling sweetly. “You’ve been thumbing this flower for a while, haven’t you?”

“I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, ‘How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?’ I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn’t. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I’ve had it ever since. Wynne enchanted it so it’ll never wither.”

Rose was at a loss for words. Her heart felt like it was swooning like some light-chested maiden. “That’s a nice sentiment,” she replied pathetically.

Alistair smirked. “I thought I might...give it to you, actually” She could only stare at him as he continued. “In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you.”

Rose covered her mouth with her free hand, her cheeks flaring a deep red. “Thank you, Alistair.” she said, realizing they were talking quieter than normal. “It’s lovely, really…”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I was just thinking...here I am doing all of the complaining, and you haven’t been having a good time of it yourself. You didn’t get to be a normal Grey Warden for very long after your Joining before being thrown into the chaos, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It’s all been death and fighting and tragedy. I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this...darkness.”

Rose’s face was hot, and she meant  _ hot _ . Annoyingly hot. Even her forehead was heated and her hands were sweating a bit. Her mind was blank, and the only thing that came to her mind was a flirty joke, so she thought she’d try it out.

“So…” she said, “are we married now?”

Alistair snickered. “Ha! You won’t land me that easily, woman!” Rose burst out laughing. “I know I’m quite the prize, after all, no need to start crying over me or anything.” His amusement faltered. “I guess it was, uh, just a stupid impulse...I don’t know, was it the wrong one?”

“No,” she assured him confidently, smiling. “No, it wasn’t. Thank you, Alistair.” She cradled the rose in my hands.

An expression she couldn’t figure appeared on his face. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. Rose saw a flash of confidence. Or was it fear? “Now...if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I’d appreciate it.”

To be completely honest, Rose almost choked. She clapped her hand to her mouth and fought back a particularly strong burst of laughter. It was a tease, she knew it. It  _ had _ to be a joke, right?  _ Right?  _ Regardless of whether or not, she couldn’t find it in her mind to be serious. She cleared her throat, hearing her voice crack and feeling like her chest was about to burst with laughter. Alistair waited as she tried several times to meet his eyes. Her voice quavered with giggles as she looked at him and said, “Alright then, take your shirt off.”

Alistair’s face flared scarlet as he laughed nervously. “Haha, bluff called! Damn! She saw right through me!”

Rose sighed, feeling amazing despite the fact that she was both horrendously embarrassed and more flattered than ever in her life. “Why must it be a bluff?” she asked before she could stop herself. “You’re cute when you’re bashful.” She meant it, every word.

“I’ll be…” he laughed nervously again and gestured behind him to nowhere in particular, “I’ll be standing over there. Until the blushing stops. Just to be, uh, safe. You know how it is.”

Rose could feel her heart singing as he walked away. Sebastian appeared at her side, nuzzling her hand and cocking his head inquisitively at her. She scratched his ears and brought the rose up and smelled its velvety petals. “I think I just fell for him, Seb,” she said to him. “Maybe I’m a romantic now. That’d be inconvenient.”


	2. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose lets out just how broken she is

Rose smiled widely when the massive doors finally opened, but it soon dropped from her lips when she saw who was on the other side. Her swords clattered to the ground noisily and her eyes burned as tears streamed down her face. She pressed her hands to her mouth and gasped through her nose, shaking her head. Her companions each asked the same question but Rose heard none of it. Her feet nearly dragged beneath her as she forced herself to walk forward.

“Hey,” Shianni said with a soft smile.

Rose choked out a laugh. Shianni’s voice was like the most beautiful in a Chantry chorus to her. “Shianni?” she sobbed.

“Who else?”

In one, jerked movement, Rose had her arms around her cousin, sobbing over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry!” Rose exclaimed. “I’m so,  _ so _ sorry! For all of it! And I never--I never told you!”

Shianni pressed her head against Rose’s, rubbing her back comfortingly. “It’s good to see you again, cousin,” she said. “Life out there’s been good to you, hasn’t it? You’re respected even among humans.”

Rose pulled back to look at her cousin, wiping vainly at her face. “You’re here, an-and I’m here, and I…” She struggled to find words. “How? She shook her head and hugged Shianni again. “I know you’re not here. You  _ can’t _ be here.” She pulled back. “But… I miss you so much, Shianni.”

Shianni smiled sadly and cradled Rose’s cheek. “Do you remember us? Where you come from and what some of us still face every day?”

More tears rolled down Rose’s mottled cheeks. She choked back sobs as she said, almost inaudibly, “How could I forget?” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I wish I could free you all. The world is so big out here.”

“Really?” Shianni laughed, high and bright. “Thank you, but that’ll take more time than you can spare.” She glanced down their feet and grasped Rose’s hands tightly. “What happened...it wasn’t your fault. You were caught in the situation. Just like the rest of us. None of it was your fault. Not Nola, not Nelaros, and not me.”

“But I could have saved you!” Rose cried. “I  _ should _ have saved you!”

Shianni pressed her hand on Rose’s chest, right above where her wedding rings hung from her Grey Warden pendant. “Stop,” Shianni whispered, smiling smally. She stepped forward and kissed Rose’s forehead. “You have a great task to complete. I need you to take this. I think you should have it.” Shianni reached into her pocket and pulled out a necklace with a simple pendant of a tiny mirror set in the middle. Rose slipped it over her head, tucking it into her armor. 

“Seeing you gives me hope...for all of us,” Shianni said. “I love you, cousin.”

Rose choked on a sob, her arms automatically wrapping around herself. “I love you too, Shianni!” She couldn’t help it; she rushed up and hugged her again, trying to commit the hug to memory. “Please, don’t go…” she murmured.

“I have to.” Shianni stepped back, bringing Rose’s hands up to her cousin’s face, covering her eyes. “As soon as I let go, I’ll be gone.”

“Shianni,” Rose sobbed. “Please, don’t leave me…”

“I’ll be waiting for you back home, cousin. Back with your father and Soris. You’ll remember us, won’t you? No matter how far you go?”

“Always,” Rose promised.

“Good luck, cousin.”

The warmth of Shianni’s hands were gone. Rose kept her eyes closed for several seconds longer, wishing beyond hope that her cousin was still in front of her, waiting for Rose to open her eyes so she could laugh at her, catch her in some sort of joke. But as more tears dripped to the floor, the heavier the truth weighed on Rose’s shoulders. Everything hurt. Her heart hammered, longing for things it couldn’t have. Her face burned with grief. Her entire body trembled with it as well.

Finally,  _ finally _ ...Rose opened her eyes.

And closed them just as fast.

She crumbled to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and openly weeping. She didn’t care if her party saw her like this: broken, sobbing, utterly distraught, and inconsolable. She was just an elf. 

She was a person. 

Off behind her she heard a rough clatter of metal on the stone and right after felt warm, strong arms wrapping around her. She turned into Alistair’s chest, clutching at his shirt and padding. He kissed her temple and said something she couldn’t understand.

She saw their faces. Nola. Nelaros. Shianni. She saw the look in her father’s eyes when she left: sadness as well as pride without parallel. Valora’s wide smile of gratitude. Shianni’s blank stare at the candles. Rose saw them all.

\------

“I left them!” Rose breathed. “How could I leave them?”

Alistair looked up at Leliana and Wynne. He needed their help, whatever they could give, but they didn’t know how to. Neither did he. He didn’t know how to help other than hold their leader at her weakest.

“I’m so sorry, Shianni…”

He prayed to the Maker it was enough for now.


	3. Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose buries a hatchet

_ “You prayed so hard for a little girl.” _

The words echoed in her mind over and over, driving her closer to the edge of insanity. She stood on the edge of Lake Calenhad, eyes squeezed tightly shut, grimacing as she heard them again.

“Get out of my head,” Rose growled in frustration.

Nelaros was dead. That was a fact. But what could have happened had he not died? A happy husband, happy wife? Happy parents? A little blonde girl running through the Alienage, ready to get scraped knees from playing too roughly. Like mother, like daughter.

No. There was no daughter. There would never be a daughter. Never. Never.

“Never,” she breathed, opening her eyes. The rays of light from the sunset reflected off the water with a blinding insistence. Tears streamed down her mottled cheeks as she gasped back a sob, bringing a hand to her mouth. Rose’s other hand grasped at the rings that hung from her neck. She pulled the cord free and looked at then. Simple. Obvious hand-me-downs.  Typical for an Alienage wedding. Nothing needed to be fancy or shiny or new for happiness to be found.

Her wedding day had been anything but happy.

_ “You prayed so hard for a little girl.” _

With a yell, Rose hurled the rings as far as she could from the shore, watching the pathetic splash and hoping nobody would find them for another age or two. She dropped to her knees, covering her eyes as she fought against broken sobs.

“Rose?”

She sniffed loudly, wiping her eyes in vain and clearing her throat. “Yeah?” she responded, getting to her feet and glancing around. It was Wynne. Rose straightened up. “Did it go well? Is Connor…?”

“Perfectly fine,” she supplied with a light wave of her hand. “He doesn’t seem to remember anything prior to the possession. Better he doesn’t.”

“Good. Good.” She stared back out across the lake.

“Bann Teagan wishes to speak with you, if you’re…”

“Yeah, okay.” Rose promptly sat down in the pebbly sand. “Tell him I’ll be up soon. I just need to...cry a bit, I think.” Even as she said the words, more tears fell. “Please, Wynne, just...I need to be alone for a bit. Thank you, though.”

“For what, dear?”

“Saving him. Connor. I promised. And I hate to break promises.”

_ “You prayed so hard for a little girl.” _

Rose dropped her head, praying beyond what she thought she was capable of for the voice to stop.  _ Maker, please, just make it stop _ . She couldn’t bear to hear it anymore. Guilt and shame slammed into her like relentless storm waves against a coast. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing beyond words just to be back in bed until the Blight was over. She wasn’t a miracle worker. She couldn’t be as strong as Duncan or Cailan or Loghain. She was just one Grey Warden. She was just one elf.

_ “You prayed so hard for a little girl.” _

“Wynne, ah...told me you were here,” Alistair said, his boots crunching in the rough sand.

Rose sighed heavily. “I’ll need to apologize to Teagan. I told Wynne I’d be up soon. I suppose...I wasn’t.” She glanced down at her clasped hands in her lap, strangely calm compared to how she was grasping herself before.

Alistair tentatively sat down next to her. “What’s wrong, Rose?” he asked softly.

She kept staring at the lake, the shimmering waters long gone. “I came down here to deal with some things. Things from my past. I am, but it’s...taking a bit longer than I thought it would.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Despite her anger and resentment, her doubts and reservations that she had wanted to bottle up into a fine wine, she let most of it go with another abysmal sigh. She scooted up next to him and nestled herself against his chest, sighing once again. “You’re doing plenty just being here, Alistair,” she assured him, starting to cry again, despite how much she didn’t want to.

His arm immediately came around her shoulder, pulling her closer. She thanked the Maker he didn’t say anything, worried the sound of his voice would send her sobbing. He just rubbed her arm soothingly and sat with her patiently, occasionally resting his cheek against her head.


	4. Too Soon?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First kiss!

Rose was soaked to the bone, bruised, and riddled with curses and giggles, but Sebastian had gotten his bath. She trudged back to camp with squelching boots as he followed, shaking his entire body occasionally. She scratched his ears and sent him to lay down in her tent while she gladly accepted a bowl of stew from Wynne. The day had been relatively easy, only one attack by the darkspawn. Their whole company was ready for a good wash and a proper night’s sleep.

Seeing as it was still early, they decided to engage in a game of Wicked Grace. They were loud and rambunctious, but they didn’t care. They deserved to be a little childish for a night. Alistair and Rose shared a hand, constantly bickering playfully over what moves to make and openly discussing their tactics in tones dripping with sarcasm. The pot was small, and to their surprise, Wynne took the lot. And with that, their night of fun had come to a close. 

“I’ll do the patrol quickly,” Rose volunteered, slipping her cloak on.

“Let me come with you,” Alistair quipped, grabbing his as well.

She quickly turned away, hiding her light blush. “And lose your precious beauty sleep? Suit yourself.” He chuckled at her teasing and her blush deepened.

“I don’t mind. Come on, the sooner we get back, she sooner we can go to sleep.”

They walked in silence for a bit. Rose kept looking around, but out of curiosity, not caution. She loved the wilderness at night. It was so quiet and yet so alive. If someone only stood and listened, they could hear the world at work. There had been nothing but noise in the Alienage. Noise and mud and drunkards. She missed it, but she loved being free far more. But she missed her family terribly. All she could do was hope that they didn’t believe Loghain, that they still held hope in her or the Grey Wardens. Those chances were probably small.

“Can I ask you something?” Alistair spoke up.

“Sure.”

He took a deep breath and blurted out, “So all this time we’ve spent together, you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us… Will you miss it once it’s over?”

Rose pulled her cloak tighter around her as she thought for a moment. She was a Grey Warden. That kind of holding came with responsibilities. Still, she blushed again, sensing the hidden meaning in Alistair’s words. She shrugged. “There’ll always be more battles to fight somewhere.

Alistair glanced down at his boots. “But that doesn't mean we would necessarily be fighting them together.” They stopped and Rose looked at him curiously. “I know this might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to...care for you. A great deal.”

“Oh?” Rose smirked, flushing fully. He took one of her hands in his and she suddenly felt very self conscious.

“I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself.” His voice had gone very soft and reserved. He was the blushing Chantry boy once again. He gave her hands a gradual squeeze. “Am I?” he asked. “Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever...feel the same way about me?”

She danced away from his gaze, looking everywhere but. She thought about how she felt about Alistair. He was...everything, really. Kind, caring, handsome, funny, and honorable to a fault as well as a damn good fighter. Memories from the Circle clouded her thoughts. The nightmare, and her doubts that had manifested there. Obviously, Alistair felt more for her now, so the question was: could she? She carried enough baggage to choke a dragon. Unnecessarily, as well. She was as stubborn as a genlock and sharp like the swords she carried.

“I-I don’t know,” she mumbled. “It might...be too soon to tell…”

“Well, is it too soon for this?” Before she could ask after what he meant, a hand drifted up to cup her cheek and his lips were against hers. A surprised squeak came from her chest, but she responded nonetheless. She was thrown off, immediately tossed into some sort of dream state. Her mind felt fuzzy and her face was on fire. And then it was over, and Alistair pulled away. It took a few seconds for her eyes to flutter open, and even longer to register what had just happened.

“Wow,” Rose breathed lamely. She cleared her throat. She liked it.  _ A lot _ . More than would be wise to admit. “I’ll need more testing to be sure.” She took a half step closer to him, closing the remaining space between them. His hands, although hesitant, drifted to her cheek and waist. She let hers rest around his neck, smiling the whole time.

Alistair mirrored her smile. “Well, I'll have to arrange that, then, won't I?” He took another deep breath. “Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man.”

Her heart felt like it had melted straight to the ground. She could feel it’s beat thundering in her chest and up her throat. She loved the way he made her feel. “The others can wait, yeah? For a little bit?”

“As long as you want, Rosie.” Her face fell slightly at the nickname. Alistair realized what he had said, his eyes going wide with regret. “Oh, Maker, I don’t know why-”

“No!” she stopped him. “I mean...it’s okay. If anyone’s to call me that, I’m glad it’s you.”

His sigh of relief was so loud it made her giggled. Before either of them could say anything else embarrassing, their lips found each other again. It was still hesitant, still a tiny bit awkward, but charged with something more. She snaked her fingers through his hair, angling his head so she could kiss it better. Alistair’s arm were wrapped tightly around her, forcing her on her toes.

The rest of the world had fallen away, leaving nothing else but the two of them. Alistair smelled like the armor polish he used and the smoke from the campfire, and Rose loved every breath she took in, despite them being few and far. His touch became a little more assertive, pulling her flush against him. Her lips parted slightly and her mind was wiped blank when she felt the hint of his curious tongue. She felt the same surprise when she chased it with her own. She grasped at his cloak, his shoulder, his face and hair, anything to help her commit the moment to memory.

They broke apart with a gasp, lips red and swollen. They chuckled at each other and studied each other’s face. Alistair looked happier than she had ever seen him. Her face seemed entirely too hot than what was possible. They kissed one last time before she breathed, “We should...finish our patrol?”

Alistair smiled again and grasped her hands, placing a kiss on each.  _ Maker’s breath, what a gentleman, _ she giggled. As they turned to continue, she laced her fingers with his and held tight, grinning like an idiot. She hoped she could give him what he deserved.


	5. Flat-Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Zevran find the Dalish

Rose consciously swallowed a scoff when Zevran offered his hand to “help” her down from a log. She politely took it anyway. “I’m not so fragile that a three foot jump would harm me, Zevran,” she said.

“Don’t I know it?” the Antivan countered with a suave smile. She couldn’t help it; she smiled as well. “I am simply playing the gentleman seeing as there is no such figure with us.” She rolled her eyes and pushed lightly at his shoulder. He chuckled. “May I ask what is it you see in our dear Alistair?”

“Why don’t you list  _ your _ reasons, Zevran?” Rose teased. “I’m sure at least a few of them would match mine.” Rose giggled when she saw the lightest of blushes creep up onto his tanned cheeks. “Don’t worry, Alistair’s too oblivious and inexperienced to notice otherwise.”

Zevran plucked a few blades of tall grass from the ground, “And how is it you know of such...pleasures?”

“I grew up in an Alienage, Zev, not the middle of nowhere. We have more than enough reasons to get drunk off our asses, and drunkenness means lewd ideas. You can imagine the rest.”

Zevran chuckled. “I certainly can! But you never?”

“No,” Rose answered simply, not embarrassed. “I was a proper daughter who dutifully kept her virtue until her wedding day.”

“You’re married?!” Zevran exclaimed.

“No,” she repeated, more firmly this time. “Just...no, Zevran.” She frowned and jumped on a falling tree, holding her arms out for balance as she tiptoed along it across a quiet stream. She brought her fingers to her lips and whistled sharply. A resounding howl answered her from the south. Sebastian was near enough.

“Rose?”

“Yes, Zevran Arainai?”

“You have many secrets, I sense.”

“Anyone with  _ sense _ could tell that, Zev.” She shook her head and hopped down. “Some secrets are just more easily seen than others. And some...you play close to the chest.” Zevran hopped down after her. “We should really find the Dalish, yeah?”

Zevran grabbed her wrist, and she had half a mind to either reel back and hit him or pull out of his grasp. Instead, she stopped. She kept looking forward, but she stopped. “I have heard that anger is good motivation,” he said, quiet enough to where she had to strain to hear him over the trickle of the creek, “but one must be careful where it stems from, else it consumes them.”

“You sound like Wynne,” Rose scoffed bitterly. “Do you want a sob story, Zevran? I’ve got one that’ll knock your boots off.”

“You don’t have to-”

Sebastian bounded up and over a small hill, barking joyously. Sensing her distress, he sat down near her feet and whined, nuzzling her hand. She stormed off in no particular direction. “His name was Nelaros,” she growled. “And he died because of me.”

Zevran jogged up beside her. “Do you really believe that,  _ amora _ ?” he asked. “Surely you musn’t, else you wouldn’t be using it to fuel your motivation.”

“Motivation for what, exactly?” Rose challenged, her temper rising.

“To finish your mission: end the Blight. Proving to the rest of the world what one Grey Warden can do. What one  _ elf _ can do.”

“Zevran,” she warned.

“ _ Prove _ to yourself, even, what you’re capable of! You think that the more people you save out here, the less guilt you feel for letting him die!”

Rose pivoted her feet and brought her fist up, but Zevran caught it, twisting her arm around and pulling her against his chest. A knife appeared out of nowhere and pressed itself against her neck.  _ The flat of the blade, _ she thought.

“Do you really believe that,  _ amora _ ?” Zevran whispered in her ear. 

Rose was panting with anger. “It doesn’t matter what I believe.” She brought her knee up and slammed her heel down on his foot, causing just enough distraction for her to break free of his grasp and jump away, unsheathing her swords. “But I  _ know _ you won’t kill me, Zevran Arainai.”

The Antivan grimaced as he glanced at his foot, but it quickly melted into a mischievous smile as he sheathed his knife and drew his daggers. “Then why the display of hostility?” he taunted.

“I need to let out some anger,” she seethed. “Sebastian, back!” Her faithful mabari took several steps back and sat, watching silently.

Just as Rose was about to rush Zevran, a cultured voice called, “I wonder, which is more curious: two elves fighting each other on our lands, or the fact that they’re flat-ears?” They both turned to the top of the hill that Sebastian had come from and found two Dalish standing there. Their armor was leaf green and amber brown, nothing like she had ever seen. But the strangest thing were their tattoos on their faces. She couldn’t remember the elven word for them, but she remembered the tattoos honored certain gods, varying from elf to elf.

“I believe the ‘flat-ear’ part is the strangest, my friend,” the second elf replied to the first. He scoffed and said something in elvhen.

Zevran and Rose sheathed their weapons, stealing a look at each other. They were taken aback. Rose held up her hands to show they meant no harm. “Are you from the Sabrae clan?” she asked.

“It carries a city tongue,” the first commented. “Who is asking?”

“Roselyn Tabris. I’m a Grey Warden in search of support against the Blight. I have treaties that call upon the help of the Dalish clans. If my sources are correct, the Sabrae clan is the largest in Ferelden. Can you help us?”

The two Dalish regarded them with mild disappointment. Rose didn’t fancy their attitude, but she held her tongue. She glanced at Zevran and saw he was too was biting his tongue against a smart comment. The two elves had a short conversation in elvhen before the second announced in the common tongue, “We will allow you to speak with our Keeper. Zathrian will decide if you are worth our time.”

“And if not?” Zevran asked.

The first answered in elvhen, refusing to translate, but Rose didn’t like the nasty smirk he shot them. She took a deep breath. She figured if this Zathrian didn’t care for what they had to say, their luck was going to turn south, fast. She let her hands drop and made to follow the Dalish.

“ _ Amora, _ ” Zevran called after her. Before she could get angry again, the Antivan placed a flower crown on her head, made from the tall grasses and flowers he had been seemingly absentmindedly picking on their hike. Rose blushed slightly, surprised by the sudden display. Before she could respond, Zevran said a few words in Antivan. “It  _ does _ matter what you believe,  _ amora _ , else we wouldn’t be here.” He grinned and walked past her, clicking his tongue at Sebastian, who followed with only slight hesitation.

She brought her fingers up to her cheeks to feel the warmth there. Whether his intention was to win her heart or her friendship, she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Now all she had to do was handle her temper around him. She thanked the Maker Alistair wasn’t with them, though it made her giggle how protective he became around her when Zevran was friendly.

_ It seems they have a competition on their hands. _ Morrigan’s words rang in her head like a murmured chant.

“Maker’s cursed ass,” she whispered to herself, far out of earshot of Zevran. “I’d choose Alistair. Every time, I’ll chose him. What in the world would Shianni say about that?”


	6. Good Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Warm. Rose was warmer than she had ever remembered being. It was a comfortable warmth that filled her up. The memories from the night before brought a slow, sly smile to her face. She was still trapped in Alistair’s tight embrace, his legs tucked and tangled with hers beneath the blanket. He was still asleep. She could hear the softest snores coming from him and the subtle patches of warm exhales on her neck. She tried not to move for fear of waking him up. Surprisingly, they had both slept without any problems, which was a rare thing indeed. She couldn’t recall sleeping so well, not even after a night of drinking. Then again, a horrible, early hangover didn’t exactly make for a restful night. The memories of Shianni always greeting one with a loud groan from the next room made Rose smile. Shianni could always power through a hangover, whereas Rose had to lock herself in the room and sleep all day. Still, nothing could compare to the warmth and sheer happiness carved into her mind from the night before.

And she  _ was  _ happy. Happier than anything. Everything was bright and beautiful and utterly content. Rose yawned and shuffled closer to Alistair, lacing her fingers with his where they sat in front of her face. He mumbled and flexed his hand, but stayed beneath the waves of sleep. A shiver of giddiness ran down her spine. Maker’s breath, she loved the man sleeping next to her. Why had she been afraid for so long. She supposed it didn’t matter anymore.

_ Maker’s breath, what did he do to me last night? _ She fought the urge to giggle at her own stray thought. He had done a  _ lot _ of things to her last night, all of them blissful and  _ wow! _ She almost couldn’t believe that her blushing Chantry boy had brought her so much pleasure and satisfaction. If Alistair hadn’t been sleeping, she would have turned over and demanded that he do it again. Perhaps she would have an embarrassing chat with Zevran about how to please Alistair just as much, if not more than he had done to her. Rose’s ears burned at the mere thought.

With her eyes still closed, she listened to Alistair’s breathing. Listened to his little snores that came with every steady inhale. His chest pressing up against her bare back as it expanded felt welcome. His right arm was snaked under hers, holding onto her as if she was one big pillow he couldn’t sleep without. A gradual grin appeared on her face. They had certainly spent nights sleeping together, especially those tainted by nightmares, but he had never held her so closely before. Never been so unafraid to openly show his affection like this. Rose loved it.

Alistair’s legs shifted against hers. He grunted and turned slightly away from her. Rose craned her head and watched as he started the slow task of waking up. He took a deep breath and let it collapse, pulling her even closer. She giggled as his lips found her neck to leave a warm kiss. She turned over and returned the kiss to his lips.

“Good morning,” she breathed.

“It certainly is,” he agreed with a lazy smile. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” she assured him. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so comfortable.”

“How could I not be, laying next to the most beautiful woman I have ever seen?”

“Oh, stop it!” She laughed. “It’s still pretty early…”

Alistair looked to the flaps of the tent. “Is anyone else awake?”

“I don’t think so.” Rose was careful to keep her voice quiet in case anyone  _ was _ indeed awake. She wiggled out of his tight embrace to crawl toward the entrance, pushing just a bit of the tent out of the way to peek. The chilled winter air greeted her, and she quickly shut the flaps once again. “Yeah, everyone’s still asleep.”

Alistair tucked the blankets back around her. “Then no one will oppose a few more moments of sleep. Come on, we don’t get it often.”

“You’re right,” she mumbled, folding back up against him. “Who doesn’t love sleeping in?” She kissed his bare chest. “I love you.” Alistair shuffled to tilt her head up and return the kiss to her lips, repeating the worded show of affection. Their lips moulded together seamlessly, parting so their tongues could glide past each other. Although their eyes were closed, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm?” she hummed, never breaking the kiss.

“Mmm,” he answered, leaning further into her. The onslaught of his mouth muffled the excited little squeal that escaped her lungs.

She grabbed at his arms as he maneuvered her smaller body over his so she could straddle his waist. Alistair pulled her down to capture one of her breasts in his mouth. She gasped as she felt his hardened length against her folds. Unceremoniously, she guided him to her entrance and firmly seated herself. They moaned in unison, both momentarily dazed by the feel of each other.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Alistair breathed, squeezing her other breath in his weapon worn hand. 

Their lips found each other again as she rolled her hips against him. They had grown  _ quite _ comfortable and confident in their actions from the night before. It wasn’t perfect yet, but they were eager to explore each other’s bodies, find the places and touches that brought the most pleasure, the best release, the sharpest cry. The  _ sounds _ of their pleasure they agreed to hear later in more private accomodations. For now, they settled for quieted moans and relished in completion.

“This is what the Chantry frowns upon?” Rose panted, a smile playing on her lips. “Torture and damnation and all that?”

“Makes me even happier I escaped that life,” Alistair replied. He looked up towards the tent flaps. “But I don’t want to leave here…”

She kissed him. “Warden duties, fellow Warden. Such is life. Come on, we can make breakfast before anyone gets up. Save the best bits for ourselves.” She giggled when Alistair’s stomach rumbled loudly following her words. They dressed easily, finding their clothes bunched together, tucked in the corners of the tent where they had been pushed the night before. Shielding her eyes from the morning sun reflecting off the freshly fallen snow, they set to the quiet work of clearing the campfire and relighting it.

Out of the blue, Alistair wrapped his strong arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “What are you-?”

“I love you,” he said firmly, kissing her cheek. “I love you.”

She laughed, high and bright. “Love you too, Alistair.”


	7. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose voices the fear of her feelings

“Can we talk for a minute?” Rose asked Alistair as soon as the rest of their company had drifted off to bed, leaving them for the first watch of the night.

“Sure,” he answered warily. “What's this about?”

She bit the inside of her lip, feeling very shy and unsure of her question. She wasn’t sure how Alistair would react but she was...afraid. Afraid for herself, for them. She wrung her hands together nervously and avoided his gaze. “I-I was wondering where you thought this was going. Us, I mean.”

Alistair's curious look faded as he absorbed her question. He stared at the campfire. “I don't know,” he answered. “Arl Eamon plans to put me forth as a contender for the throne.” A large, painful lump was forming in her throat. “It's never something I wished for--not in my wildest dreams. But if it comes to be that Ferelden has no better option…” he sighed and looked at her. “I don't know what that would mean for us.”

Rose should have understood completely. She should have known Alistair, honorable to a fault, would say something like that. Of course he would step up for the country he loved. He was just like that, and she loved that about him. Dammit, but she loved him. Even so, the lump in her throat throbbed. As selfless as she tried to be as a Grey Warden, she simply couldn’t deny what she felt in her heart. Maker’s cursed ass, she deserved to be selfish for this!

Although she tried, she couldn’t stop her voice from breaking slightly as she said, “I can’t let you go, Alistair. I-I love you.” Her hand drifted over her mouth as a couple of hot tears spilled from her eyes. “And the thought of losing you…”

Alistair scooted even closer, holding her tight and smoothing her hair down comfortingly. “Hey-hey-hey,” he breathed as she fought against pointless tears. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts me, Rosie. I would never do anything to upset you.”

She clutched at his shirt, scrunching her face up. “I know,” she said. “Fuck,  _ I know _ . I just…” She pulled away to look at him. “I can’t lose another loved on to nobility. Please, Alistair, promise me you’ll do everything you can to...to…” It was unfair, what she wanted to ask of him. She wanted him to promise he would do everything she could to stay with her. She cursed herself a dozen times over in her head. But as she searched his eyes for rejection or reservation, she saw sympathy. She was taken aback. “In the Alienage, loving someone the way I love you is dangerous. Any day you could be killed or carried off by noblemen. It happened to my mother, and it happened to my cousin. Please, for me, just...stay with me as long as you can.”

“I promise,” Alistair said firmly. He kissed her temple and held her closer. “Let’s not talk about this now, okay?”

“Okay.”

The rest of their watch was spent in relative silence. Alistair busied himself with polishing his chest plate and Rose chatted lightly with Shale, mostly about the various ways to brutally kill pigeons, but it kept her mind occupied. Wynne emerged from her tent to join the golem for the next watch. Alistair and Rose retreated to their shared tent. She took off her remaining armor in a haze, too unfocused to do much thinking. She was confused, upset with herself and powers of her control. A Grey Warden was not meant to do much association with politics or nobility.

She discarded her shirt and fumbled with her breastband, feeling the marks it had left on her sides. She flinched slightly as she felt warm hands skim slowly across her skin. “What-” She glanced over her shoulder and was met with soft lips on her own. Her mind went blank and she couldn’t help but respond to his touch. He pulled her around to face him, trailing his lips across her jaw, down her neck, a slight bite at her shoulder, a huff of hot breath on her chest.

Alistair straightened up and cradled her face, staring into her eyes by the dim light of their tent. “You know I love you, right?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I know that,” she replied. “Alistair, I’ve never doubted how you felt towards me. I’m just afraid.”

“Of what?”

She shook her head. “Of being alone again. I’ve never felt more alone than when you’re not with me. I’ve never felt more scared and afraid, more unsure and sad.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I’m nothing without you, you hear me? You are every good part of me and without you I am noth-” Her rant was silenced as Alistair crushed his lips against hers. His hand held fast at the back of her head, holding her in place. His tongue ran greedily along her lips and she was helpless to do anything but grant access.

“You are  _ not _ nothing,” he growled. “You are the woman I love, and that is everything to me.” He kissed her again, softer. “I’ll tell you every day until you believe that, Roselyn Tabris. I love you.” Her hands, seemingly with minds of their own, ghosted over Alistair’s as his pulled at the laces of her pants. They slid down her legs with ease.

“I love you,” she echoed.


	8. Beneath the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Alistair take a moment to relax after getting out of the Deep Roads

Rose sat at the foot of the bed, rubbing her forehead. She wasn’t entirely convinced that going back to sleep was the best idea. Then again, she hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep at a time since they had entered the Deep Roads. Neither had Alistair. The nightmares, although a common occurrence for both of us, had gotten significantly worse ever since they had seen the Archdemon and the darkspawn horde. At the time, it sounded like endless shrieking in her head. Screaming, screeching, scratching, every cringe-worthy noise shattering her mind at a deafening volume. She had nearly passed out. She almost wished she would have. Perhaps then she wouldn’t remember the sounds.

Instead of the Calling, a splitting headache had become her constant companion. It made her want to do nothing but dig a hole in the ground, crawl in it, bury herself, and wait out the Blight. Her head throbbed painfully with each sudden turn of her head. She moaned softly and laid back, letting her arm rest over her eyes. She knew Alistair felt similarly, judging by the pillow firmly pressed over his head and the way his shoulders rolled every few seconds. Wynne could do almost nothing to help but offer sleeping spells and potions, which we flatly refused after the first time. They had both slept horribly, tortured by nightmares but unable to be woken up. Trapped in a nightmare. Luckily, neither of them remembered them, but they couldn’t shake the feelings of horror and terror that had lingered.

Rose angled her head towards Alistair. He sighed deeply and let his shoulders sag, but not relax. She closed her eyes momentarily, sat up slowly, and padded over to his side of the bed. She knew he had heard her, but he didn’t even shift in the slightest bit when she grasped his shoulder. He was tense, she could feel that plainly. She placed a light kiss between his shoulder blades and moved to straddle his waist, pressing firmly on his back and he tried to move.

Only they could understand each other. Only they could imagine, in detail, what they suffered through in their nightmares. She had lost him a dozen times to the Archdemon of her dreams and knew he had seen the same with her as well. They were certainly terrible at hiding it from each other. It wasn’t hard to pick up. They saw it in the way they looked at each other, that longing look with a hint of determination and protection. They felt it in the harsher squeezes of their hands, or the pauses when they shared a kiss, trying desperately to commit the moment to memory. Humor evaporated and the seriousness of preservation replaced it. They snapped, snarked, and chipped at casual conversation with the rest of their companions, wanting nothing but the company of each other.

As Rose worked at the firm knots in Alistair’s back, she thought about it. She thought about how becoming a Grey Warden had changed her. She couldn’t quite recall what she had been like before the Blight, or at least she couldn’t point out more than a few differences in her day to day habits. She had become stronger, faster, and smarter. She had learned the importance of her friend-family and felt the overwhelming urge to be close to them. They made her feel whole. Warm. Herself.

And Alistair. Her bastard prince. No, he wasn't that. He never wanted that. Rose knew who Alistair was. She didn’t know who  _ Prince Alistair Theirin _ was. She didn’t want to know. She loved him more than anything in the world, far more than she loved herself. She loved how his skin seemed to light afire when she touched it. She loved it when he held her close, looked down at her, like a shield to protect her from the world around them. She loved how big his hands were compared to hers, and  _ always warm! _ She loved how he could curl up the tone of his voice in such a way that never failed to make her either giggle or roll her eyes at him.  She loved how he  _ somehow _ always managed to appear at her side when Zevran became a little too talkative with her. She snickered to herself. Yes, she loved him.

A low groan from the subject man pulled her from her thoughts. She leaned forward and kissed his shoulders again, keeping her lips feather light on his skin. He rolled his shoulders again and chuckled. “That tickles,” his muffled voice came from beneath the pillow.

Rose hummed her amusement and snaked her arms beneath him, letting her head rest on his impossibly warm back. “I love you,” she murmured against his skin. All she heard was a series of hums, muffled by the pillow, as an answer, causing her to laugh.

Alistair pulled the pillow away, glancing over his shoulder in her direction. “I love your laughter,” he said. “My Rosie made it out of the Deep Roads.”

“So did  _ my _ Alistair.”


	9. Pads and Calluses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'VE GOT A THING FOR HANDS, OKAY?

It wasn’t often Rose and Alistair were side by side on their backs. Usually it was just Alistair on his back while Rose clung to his side, overjoyed to be enveloped by his warmth. Her focus was elsewhere, tonight. She laced her fingers through his, pulled them apart, and did it all again. She wanted to feel his hands. With each passing graze, his calluses seemed softer, his skin felt smoother. She studied how his fingers flexed and bent. She simply wanted to see, wanted to revel in the ability to be so close to someone else’s hands.

“What  _ are _ you doing?” he asked quietly. She didn’t even have to look over to see the odd smile on his face.

Bringing their hands to her lips and kissing his knuckles, she mirrored the smile. “I don’t know. I like...feeling your hands, I guess.” She shrugged. “Think about it. Nobody gets to do this unless they love each other. I like holding your hand, Alistair. I just...do.”

It was his turn to kiss her knuckles. She could feel his smile on her skin. “Your hands are so much smaller than mine,” he noted.

She clicked her tongue distastefully. “They’re not  _ that _ small!”

“Oh, yes, they are,” he insisted. “But I love it.”

“And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

\---

Morrigan shook her head at Rose. “And you never once thought about ending their miserable lives?” she asked.

Rose shot her a chiding look. “Morrigan, I thought about it every day.” She shrugged. “Not like I could act on it, though.” Her right hand was suddenly occupied by Alistair’s left as he appeared at her side. She grinned at him. “Hello, there,” she teased. Morrigan had already started ahead of them by the time Rose looked back to her. Alistair didn’t say anything. He just kept walking straight and occasionally glanced at the landscape around them. She gave his hand a squeeze but he didn’t return the gesture.

“Hey,” she said, catching his attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he tried to assure her. “I’m fine.”

She nudged her smaller body against his arm, latching on lovingly. “Okay. We can talk about it later.”

“Rosie, I’m fine.”

She squeezed his hand again, stopping them both. “Say it again,” she encouraged. “Maybe I’ll believe it the second time.” Although it was tough to stare him down, being about a food and some shorter than he was, her intimidation skills seemed to rise when she wanted something and gave a certain eyebrow-raising look.

Alistair gave a quick glance to their group gradually pulling away from them down the road, then studied her with a neutral expression. “It’s silly,” he insisted. “Nothing worth pulling me over for.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

He took both of her hands and kissed her knuckles with consideration. “‘Touch is a wicked thing,” he suddenly blurted out.

“What?”

“That’s what the sisters used to tell us. Us kids, I mean, at the monastery. ‘Touch is a wicked thing.’ Discouraged us from going out, you know, and doing...things…” His darting eyes told Rose he was almost embarrassed about the whole ordeal. “You mentioned a few nights ago that you liked holding my hands, liked touching them.”

A smattering of pink appeared on her cheeks and lit up the tips of her ears. “Oh, I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

A flash of worry crossed Alistair’s face as he squeezed her hands and said, “No, no, no, it’s not what you think!” assuringly. “I only mean that I like it too. All of those years, devoid of the simplest touches from another person…” He sighed heavily. “I think it’s weighing on me now.” He gave her hands another kiss and smiled. “Don’t worry, though, love. I’m catching up.”


	10. Very Antivan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stabbing: Now with consent!

"Are you sure you know how to do this, Zevran?" Rose asked nervously as Wynne gently pushed her braid behind her right ear. She was seated on a tree stump whilst the other three crowded her to help and enjoy what was about to happen. Alistair was conveniently on patrol with Sebastian and Morrigan. Rose had insisted they at least try and get along.

“Of course,  _ amor _ ,” he assured her with a wave of his hand.  "Many people in Antiva have pierced ears." He grinned slyly. "Many people have other things pierced as-"

"Let's not scare her, my friend!" Leliana exclaimed, reaching out as if to cover his mouth. 

Zevran laughed. "Much easier to do with a mage, you see." Rose gasped as a rush of cold passed over her ear, numbing it. “Yes, the cold numbs, so you won’t feel as much pain.”

“‘As much?’” she echoed, skeptical. “Maker’s breath.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, my friend,” Leliana assured her, grasping her hands tightly. Rose took a deep breath and chuckled nervously.

"A lot of mages in the tower did this as well," Wynne noted. "I helped a young man...Anders, I believe his name was. Always wore just the one gold ring. Never saw him without it."

Zevran handed the needle to Wynne, who promptly held it between her thumb and forefinger, lighting up the needle in flames for only a second or two before handing it back. Zevran grinned at her. "Ready,  _ amor _ ?" he asked.

“Hell no,” she snickered. “Let’s do it.” She squeezed Leliana’s hands tightly as Zevran took Wynne’s spot and slid an apple slice behind her ear.

“Deep breath,  _ amor _ ,” he advised quickly before stabbing her ear through with the needle. Rose’s mouth dropped open at the sudden and strange pinching pain, but no sound came out. A light throb had just begun to start just as Zevran announced, “Done!” and stepped away.

Her open-mouthed surprise quickly morphed into a smile as she let out the deep breath she had been holding in a shrill laugh. “Ow!” she exclaimed, laughing, the other three joining in. She tentatively reached up and brushed her fingers against the newly added silver ring now hanging from the shell of her ear. “What the hell!”

\---

Rose was chopping vegetables for Wynne’s stew when Alistair came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. She giggled and turned to face him. “Stop doing that!” she laughed, accepting a kiss. When they pulled apart, he grinned down at her. Then his eyes darted to her right. She tried to read the curious and slightly confused look on his face.

“Do you hate it?” she asked quietly, biting her lip.

“No!” he said quickly, looking worried he had hurt her feelings. “No, it’s just a bit of surprise, is all!” He gave her his lopsided puppy grin. “I like it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” She got up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.


	11. Why Do the Innocent Run?

" _ What _ were you trying to prove?!" Rose shouted at Alistair as they ducked into a nearby alley. She shoved him roughly, getting him to stumble back a step. “That was idiotic!” She poked her head out of the alley to see if anyone was coming. Nothing yet, but she still heard the residual clamor of the fight. “Why did you do that, Alistair?”

He started to argue, but couldn’t get more than a few words out at a time. “He was--and I thought!” He huffed in frustration. “You were-”

She snapped her fingers to shut him up. She could hear the metal clanking of the guards coming closer. “Doesn’t matter now. Get out of Denerim, back to camp. “I’ll meet you there. Go. Now!” At her sharp shout, Alistair tossed his hood up and ducked down the alley while Rose ran out into the street. “Hey! Over here!” The guards came barrelling around the corner, swords drawn, confused determination set in their eyes and jaws. “Come and get me!” All eyes in the street locked onto her as she turned and ran, zigzagging between onlooker.

_ Keep ahead of them, don’t get caught. You get caught, you’re dead. Get that? You’re in the capital, Loghain’s nest. There’s no escaping if you’re caught. It’ll be over. All over. _

\---

By the time Rose had finally escaped the guard and jogged into camp, panting and sweating like crazy, it was far into the night. They had set up the smallest camp they could as far away as they dared. The fire was barely above the glowing embers. Leliana and Sebastian were on watch. Her mabari immediately ran at her when he heard her approach. She kneeled and caught him in her arms, giving him a good rub down before sitting next to the bard.

“Any troubles?” Rose asked her.

“No,” she replied. “It has been quiet for the most part. Alistair insisted on staying up, but I warned him that you may not want to see him right away after what he did.”

“Smart call,” she joked bitterly. “Maker’s breath, Leliana, he--” She blew out her cheeks. “Over that, really? He got mad over that? I’ve heard much worse in my life!”

Leliana regarded her with the slightest touch of sadness. “You’re so blatant about it, Rose, I’m not entirely sure how you can do it.”

She shrugged, scratching her hound’s ears. “It’s just how I grew up. Kids in the Alienage don’t stay innocent for long. You either grow up or get hurt in your ignorance.” She sighed heavily, standing up and stretching. “Suppose I’ll go tell off Alistair, then try to get some sleep. ‘Night, Leli.”

“Goodnight, my friend.”

Rose planted a kiss on Sebastian’s soft head before retiring to the tent. Alistair was flat on his back, one hand under his head, the other resting on his stomach, and sleeping quietly. It was...nice to see him sleeping in such a relaxed state. Legs outstretched, the whole bedroll to himself, no nightmares. She dressed down as silently as she could before sitting down cross-legged next to him.

“Alistair, love,” she whispered, grasping his free hand and giving it a soft squeeze. He grunted in his sleep and tried to turn over. She rolled her eyes and pulled him back. “Alistair, wake up.”

"Hmm? Makers breath! You're alright!" Alistair sat bolt upright and crushed her in a hug. "When you didn't follow, when you weren't here, I thought...I thought..." There was a slight hitch in his voice, like he was trying to hold back sobs.

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “I am, Alistair, I promise!” She held him tight, listening to his deep breaths. “Are  _ you _ okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m...so sorry, Rosie, I wasn’t thinking, and that man-”

“I know. Believe me, love, I know. Just...please don’t do that again. Just don’t.”

“Stop trying to-”

Rose pulled away so he could understand how she felt. “That wasn’t  _ protecting _ me, Alistair. That was just punching some prick.” She let him keep rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back as he waited. “You don’t think I’ve heard worse? You don’t think I’ve  _ seen _ worse?” He sighed and nudged his forehead against her collarbone.

“Love-”

“I can fight my own battles,” she interrupted him. “I’ve been doing it my whole life. Trust me, love, I’ve been slighted enough. I’m numb to it at this point. They’re just words, Alistair. Just words.”

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t know…”

“I know you didn’t.” She kissed the crown of his head. “Most people don’t. It’s okay. I still love you.”

He chuckled, looking up at her. “Good. I love you, too. Will you let me make it up to you?” His fingers were carefully undoing the laces of her breastband even as he asked. She laughed as the garment fell loose and her breasts slacked. She kissed him.

“I’m eager to see what you have in mind.”


	12. A Feminine Kind of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Nature comes a-calling for Rose

Rose clutched at the pillow in her arms, squeezing another between her legs, moaning in pain. She rolled over on her opposite side and scrunched up her face, trying to ignore the twisting pain in her lower abdomen. She blew out her cheeks and pressed her hands to her forehead. A raging headache was going on at the same time as the cramping. “Fucking fuck me,” she breathed.

Alistair stirred beside her, woken probably by her lazy writhing. “Hmm? Rosie? Are you alright?”

Letting out another pained breath, she said, “No, not really.” She heard him shift around and sit up. Reaching out her hand, she found his and squeezed tightly, exhaling shakily.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s…” She gestured to her stomach and the pillow still crushed between her legs. “Just hold my hand, okay? It’ll stop any minute.” He nodded and held her hands, shifting her into his lap. She kept her eyes closed and pressed closer to his body heat, listening to his heart.  _ Maker’s breath, how in the world is he always so fucking warm? _ He was always there when she needed him, and she was afraid she took him for granted more often than not. “Thank you, Alistair. I love you.”

He chuckled softly and kissed her temple. “I love you too, Rosie.” Eventually, the pain subsided, leaving her with a calm feeling throughout her body, especially in her lower region. She let out one final sigh and melted against him. One of his hands escaped her sweaty grip and slowly trailed through her hair, sending delightful shivers up and down her spine. “Better?”

“Much, thanks to you.”

“So, um...what was wrong?”

Rose felt her cheeks blush slightly. “Oh, well, um…” She snickered. “You see...women get...cramps when we bleed. And it hurts. A lot, sometimes.”

Alistair stiffened slightly around her. She smiled. She could bet that she could reach up and find his cheeks mottled and burning. “Bleeding? Like… Oh.  _ Oh _ .”

She smirked. “Get it?”

“I got it. Thanks. Does it...happen often? The cramps, I mean. I know that the, uh,  _ bleeding _ , only happens...um…”

Stifling another snicker, she shook her head. “It varies. For me...I don’t know, usually only this one bad time per month. A few waves before it starts. It doesn’t...how do I say?” She bit her lip. “I don’t get it regularly.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “I never get it regularly. Never did. Don’t think I ever will.” Looking down, her cheeks flared even hotter and she shifted uncomfortably.  “Nobody was really... _ fuck _ , healthy enough in the Alienage to get it normally. Too skinny, not enough food, not enough of anything. I thought it would level out with the Wardens, but I think the taint has the same kind of effect.” She giggled immaturely. “Sorry, Alistair, but you’ll have to wait a few more days to have sex.”

 


	13. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say fluff?

Oh, the lazy soft kisses of post sex. Rose loved them. The occasional nudge of foreheads and puffs of breath with lips stretching into tired smiles. Her heart thumped with adoration towards the man whom she shared her bedroll with.

"I love you," she breathed, kissing his Theirin nose.

Alistair hummed with amusement. "I know," he said confidently.

She chuckled. "Odd place to find love, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"We started saying the words in the middle of a snowstorm. Started having sex in a tent half buried in a snowbank."

"Did you expect roses and poetry?"

Rose opened her eyes, finding Alistair already admiring her face, and gave him a look she saved just for his specific teasing moments. "I grew up in an Alienage," she reminded him. "Not the best of places for hopes and dreams to flourish. Plus, you already gave me the one rose."

"Very true," he noted with a lopsided smirk. He nuzzled her neck just how she liked it, warm like a kiss but with a hint of teasing. A hidden joke between just the two of them. "It doesn't matter how or where we fell in love, love," he stated. "I love you, Rosie. My place is right by your side, wherever you are. Muddy puddles and snowbanks. All of it."


	14. Vanity in the Lands of Amaranthine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Alistair find themselves captured by Amaranthine men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> Rape mention  
> Flogging torture

"It's gonna be fine," Rose vainly assured Alistair. Tears fell down her cheeks and dripped off of her chin even as she said the words. “I’ll be okay.”

“Rose!” he cried, straining against his chains. He turned to one of the soldiers. “Take me, I’m Maric’s bastard, dammit! I’m worth more to you than her, just let her go!”

One of them scoffed and backhanded him, the crack of skin on skin shattering the air. Rose flinched and strained against her own chains, feeling her fear in every fiber of her body. “Don’t worry, my prince,” he said, crouching in front of Alistair, “you’re next.” The guard behind rose tore her shirt open and she felt the cold air on her bare back. She choked back a sob and took an abysmal breath, shaking as she tried to steel her nerves. “ _Don’t, please, I’m begging you!_ ”

“It’ll be fi-” The whip cracked across her back, sending searing pain across her skin. Rose inhaled sharply and arched forward. It hit her again, harder. She bit her lip--a mistake--and blood leaked down her face. Alistair’s cries and shouts were lost in her mind. The whips kept coming, but the pain tapped out. Soon, it was simply on the edge of unbearable. She screamed and cried out, but she never asked for mercy, never asked them to stop. They didn’t deserve her weakness.

“Please! STOP!”

The guard with the whip came around and held her face up roughly, examining the cut while another held a knife to Alistair’s throat, silencing him. His face was blurry and his breath smelled like sour wine and cheap whiskey. “She looks good enough, wouldn’t you say, lads?” Rose spit at him, a red spray of her blood splattering across his face. He squared his jaw and punched hers. her head snapped to the side, tiny droplets of her blood flying to the filthy floor. She screamed again, feeling the harsh bite of the whip as it tore through her muscles as she tried to pull away. “She don’t need a pretty face, though, does she? Just a tight cunt.”

Rose took a deep breath. “You’re shit at torturing someone,” she choked out, trying to pretend she hadn’t heard him, although her heart began thundering behind her ribs in fear. The men quit laughing and stared at her. Fresh tears born of shame burned in her eyes as she thought of an idea. A stupid one, of course, but what choice did they have? “Let me cut you boys a deal,” she growled. “Let him go, and…” She swallowed a hard lump in her throat and squeezed her eyes shut. “And you can have your ways with  me.”

“NO! Ro-”

“Stop!” she shrieked, cutting off her name. “Trust me, okay? It’s...just what needs to happen, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay!”

“Young love!” the third guard exclaimed drunkenly, holding his bottle of whiskey close. "Oh, let him go, Captain! He can keep living with the fact that he left his lady love behind to be _fucked_ to death!"

His statement dug a trench through Rose’s heart. She couldn’t hold back her sob, letting her body shake with the outburst. She struggled against her chains toward Alistair, praying nonstop to the Maker that he would see her shame. She had just traded away everything that made her strong for the chance for her lover to escape. “I’m so sorry!” she cried, sobbing freely and no longer caring how deep her shackles cut into her wrists. Warm blood dripped down her arms.

The captain shrugged in cruel humor and uncuffed Alistair. He immediately surged forward and cradled her face, crying too hard to form words. No I love yous, no I’m sorrys, no I’ll come back. They kissed, deep and desperate. His warm lips stung against hers as she tried vainly to be strong. A knife passed between their necks and pulled lightly on Alistair’s, several small beads of blood forming on the blade.

“Stand up, boy, nice and slow.”

\---

Rose held her arms close around herself. For the first time in months, she was utterly alone. She had no idea where their team had moved camp, had no clue who was where. Fucking hell, she didn’t even know if the men had kept their word, as little as it was worth to her, and let Alistair go. Rose cursed aloud and thumbed away her tears. The soldiers hadn’t done anything to her yet. The captain had said he wanted to “get good and buzzed for a wild night.” She felt uneasy. She wanted to throw up.

A group of five men and a woman sat huddled in a cell across the room. They talked in hushed tones, occasionally glancing at her. She was sure they weren’t too friendly, but at that point she would fight beside brutal murderers as long as their blades were pointed towards Amaranthine men.

She stood up, testing the chains that bound her close to the wall. Strong and sturdy, no chance of breaking them.

_“Easy. Quite painful, but rather easy.”_

“Fuck,” she breathed, staring at the ceiling. “Shit, fucking shit.” She sighed and hung her head. “Damn you, Duncan, but you’re about to save my life.” She sat back down, ignoring the dull pain from her throbbing back. She pulled her knees close to her chest and wedged them on the bar connecting her shackles.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a voice from the other side of the room hissed.

“What the fuck does it look like?” she snapped quietly, her voice strained from the pressure against her chest. “Shut the hell up before you call unwanted attention.” She refocused on her attempt, panting a few times before fully realizing what she was about to do. “Fuck-fuck-fuck!” she muttered quickly, halting her breath and using the tension to assist her legs as she pushed as hard as she could to extend them. The pain shook her knees, threatening to slacken, but she pushed on, tears streaming from her eyes and sweat running down her temples.

There was a sound between a pop, a rip, and a crack, and Rose’s vision blacked out for a few seconds as she internalized her scream. She curled in on herself, careful not to touch her hands. To escape the shackles, which she had, she had recalled a tactic that Duncan had briefly mentioned back at Ostagar. She had popped her thumbs out of their sockets, nearly tearing her tendons in half when doing so. The easy part was over. To to face the hard part. The real test of her will. Anyone could rip shackles off it they did it fast and clean enough.

  
She sat up, crying out as pain racked her whole body. "Who are you guys anyway?" she wondered aloud.

  
"We served the late Teryn Cousland," the woman responded proudly. "The Cousland family was betrayed-"

  
"By Arl Rendon Howe," she finished for her, glancing at her bloodstained hands. "Their daughter has yet to be found, am I correct?"

  
"I...yes. We implanted ourselves in the lands of Amaranthine in hopes of hearing firsthand rumors of where she could be. Who are you?"

  
Rose shifted to her knees, gently placing her hands open on the ground, palms down. She heard a sharp gasp from the woman and looked up. They had all stood up and we're now staring at me, utterly horrified watching her. As Rose applied more pressure, gritting her teeth and trapping her screams in her chest, the woman covered her mouth and turned away, stumbling toward the back of their cell. Her hands ghosted to the sides of her face as if she was going to cover her ears. Rose shut her eyes and pushed down with her full weight, feeling the agonizing shift of her thumbs. She quickly leaned back and flexed her hands, working through the throbbing pain.

“Zevran Arainai, I love you,” Rose declared with a smile, reaching up to her right ear and undoing the thin piece of metal that curled around the shell. She had to remember to do something special for him, considering he was about to save her life with his gift. She unbent the curves and held it up to the flickering torchlight. The complex earring was actually a lockpick and flat wire designed to not appear as such. She carefully inserted the delicate tools into the lock and focused on what she felt, unable to see the lock itself.

“There's the pins,” she muttered to herself. Holding her breath, pushed each of them up until she heard their near inaudible clicks and tightened her pinching grip, sending up a curt prayer before turning her tools to her left. A dull clank shattered the silence of the dungeon. Rose grinned. “And that's how it's done!” she whispered excitedly, adrenaline kicking her attitude back into shape. She pushed open the door and hurried over to the other cell, making quick work of their lock as well. She returned her lockpick and wire to her ear.

“I never answered your question,” Rose told the woman as she rolled her shoulders slowly, testing her tolerance. She stuck her hand out. “Rose Tabris, Grey Warden.”

“Grey Warden?”

_Fuck._

“Yeah…” Rose answered slowly.

A man stepped forward and took her hand, shaking it strongly. “An honor,” he said firmly. “Those loyal to the Couslands, however few there are now, stopped believing Loghain the minute he failed to act when Highever was burned to the ground. Instead, he appointed that _bastard_ as the new Arl of Denerim.”

Another hand replaced the man’s. And another after that. And after that. All saying how it was an honor to meet a Grey Warden. Rose stared in blatant surprise. _“You didn’t get to be a normal Grey Warden for very long after your Joining before being thrown into the chaos, not a word of thanks or congratulations.”_  So this was it. The thanks and congratulations. She felt...indifferent. It was unnecessary. She didn't needed to be thanked for doing her job.

“Let's escape then, shall we?” she said. She realized she was nearly a foot shorter than all of them, and the thought made her chuckle quietly.

\---

Rose’s heart had never pounded harder. As the soldiers and herself crept around Vigil's Keep upper courtyard, the snow seemed to fall harder, bitterly cold. It stung their exposed skin and absolutely chilled them to the bone, but none of them complained, or even uttered a word. The woman, their captain, she had learned, lead the way. They were all currently hiding behind a small building built next to the walls. She couldn't breathe properly. She panted, realizing she was panicking.

The captain pointed up to the tiled roof above them. Two men dropped to to a knee next to each other. One by one, the rest of the soldier took a hop and were thrown to the rooftop by the two men.

“Warden?” one of them asked.

She took a shaky deep breath. “I don't know…” she panted.

The men exchanged a glance. “We'll get you through this,” one said. “Just a little boost.”

“A little boost,” she echoed. “Okay.” Reaching out to brace herself on their shoulders, Rose brought her boot up on their linked hands and extended her arms to grab the hands of the two soldiers ready to haul her up. She bit her lip harshly and grunted as pain flared across her back when they pulled, taking a second to catch her breath. They hopped up to the battlements by a large pyramid of storage crates. The darkness and falling snow shrouded them, keeping them from being spotted. They still had to hope that the patrolling guards were too bitter about the cold to look around too much.

“Right over the wall, ladder down, okay lads?” the captain hissed. They all nodded. Rose could only blink at her. In a flash, three of the men had scrambled up and over the other side of the ramparts. One was kneeling with his leg dangling over the wall, the next grabbed said leg and hung as well, and the third climbed down the first two, dropping to the ground with a soft grunt. The second dropped with a slightly louder grunt. The third glanced over before slipping over the edge. “You’re up, Warden.”

Rose crept between the ramparts, peering down. The first two men had their arms linked, bridged between them, looking up at her expectantly. “They’ll catch you,” the captain assured her. “They’ve done this hundreds of times in training. Just try to aim for them.” Rose tried not to roll her eyes. The captain was making it sound easier than it looked. Still, what other choice did they have? Rose took a deep breath, settling on the edge, before slipping right off. True to her word, the men caught her in their arms. Smiling slightly, she stepped aside and watched the others drop down quickly. They all rushed for the treeline.

“Thanks,” Rose panted. “I’d probably be hiding in a broom closet if you guys hadn’t been in that cell.”

The captain smirked at her. “Just stay alive long enough to end the Blight, yeah? And don’t forget to kick Loghain right up main street on the way there.” With a quick, two-fingered salute, the Highever soldiers disappeared into the darkness.

\---

The throbbing had spread up her arms, pulsing painfully. Her face was stained with sweat and tears alike as Rose made her way through the woods as fast as she was able. The trees were thinning out, and soon she would have no cover. She hadn’t the faintest idea of where she was going, nor which direction camp was in. She was hopelessly lost and it was only a matter of time before Howe’s men caught up with her. With her careless stumbling over twigs and snow, including her vain attempts to internalize her sobbing, it wouldn’t be a hard task.

Her feet wouldn’t take anymore, nor would her knees. They buckled under her and she barely had enough time to twist her body to refrain from falling on her hands or back. The jarring impact sent splintering pain up her arms and flared across her back. Rose grit her teeth together and roughly swallowed a scream, settling for a forced exhale instead. She had fallen in a deep fork between two massive tree roots, but it could have been an Orlesian goose-feather mattress for all she cared.

The fact that there was no one to blame for the inconvenience was infuriating. Besides the obvious answers of Loghain and Howe, it had been nobody’s fault that Alistair and Rose had been captured. It was simply bad luck. The risk that the two of them took every day had finally come to bite them in the arse. They were Grey Wardens. Traitors, turncoats, backstabbing cowards with their greedy eyes set on the Ferelden throne. Also in bed with Orlais, they couldn’t forget that rumor. And on top of it all, Alistair was the bastard son of Maric and Rose was known for killing a floor full of guards, including an arl’s son. Half of the country wanted to turn them in or kill them, and the other half simply didn’t care, too occupied with the growing Blight.

Rose sighed deeply as the wounds on her back went numb against the snow, soaking in the freeze. She hadn’t started to shiver yet, as her body was still too searing hot with pain, but her ears were beginning to get even colder. She could feel the flush of her cheeks wane, her fingertips chill, and her toes curl. Her shaky and uneven breath came out in a thick fog, surely making her easier to spot. She scooted further up the fork, pulling her legs up and turning on her side, breathing into her hands in an attempt to warm them. There were too many thoughts to think, too many curses to utter, too little time to do either. Rose closed her eyes.

Although it was unlikely, she prayed Alistair was safe. If she wasn’t going to last to see the end of the Blight, she couldn’t think of anyone better to pass the responsibility to with confidence. She yearned to have him wrap his arms round her like the bear he was compared to her, to feel his heart deep in his chest and know everything was alright for the moment.

Maker’s breath, it was cold. A blood-freezing chill that would take more than one blanket to remedy. Rose chuckled almost deliriously. Sex would do. Her chuckle turned weak as it trailed off and she was again at the mercy of reality. Freezing to death, not one of her choice ways to die. Rose would have preferred “stabbed to death” or “assassinated” or “burned to a crisp by a High Dragon.” Anything but freezing to death. Her body shivered violently, bordering on convulsions.

There was nothing left to feel but the stinging cold piercing her body. Everything hurt in its own way. Her lips were chapped and splitting. She couldn’t feel her feet up to her ankles. Her thighs tingled. She didn’t have the energy to flex her hands anymore, and she was pretty sure her eyes were frozen shut. On the brighter side, Rose thought, her wounds had stopped bleeding. At least, she no longer felt the warm blood leaking out of her, so she assumed as much.

 _Will they find my body?_ I wondered. _Or will I forever be a resident of this forest? Will some lone wolf or scrawny coyote come and drag away my carcass? That might be interesting._

There was a glow in the darkness, an ebbing, pale blue, but not harsh. Soft. It was joined by a similarly warm red, like a fireplace. Rose exhaled, relieved. So, the Maker’s side wasn’t so bad, assuming that was what she was beginning to see. Through the numbness of her body, she couldn’t have been sure, but it felt like someone was holding her face, grasping her side, pulling her up. A sliver of excitement warmed her frozen bones. If anything, dying was certainly interesting.

\---

Sweat. Sweat everywhere. Rose could feel the heat radiating off of her face, lines of perspiration running down her temples. She shifted her body, sitting up very slowly, resting her face in her sweaty hands. Her head swam terribly and spots danced in her vision. She swayed lightly and smirked, sighing.

Rose was, without a doubt in her dehydrated mind, completely alive.

Thick bandages were wrapped around her entire torso like a shirt, encasing her body with heat and sweat. She was so disoriented she didn't know which way was up or down, left or right, or if she was even awake at all. Looking around her, she saw a bucket next to her bedroll and cautiously dipped her hand in it, finding cool, clear water that she drank to soothe her aching throat. She laid back down and pressed her hands to her eyes, thinking about where she could be and what state she was exactly in. Where was she? Who had found her? Had it been one of her companions? Had they come looking for her? Had the Amaranthine men kept their word and let Alistair go?

A soft rustling sound from outside the flaps attend brought Rose to attention. She sat up as slowly as she could without hurting herself. She wasn't sure if she should reach for nearby weapons or simply wait, so she chose the latter. Eventually, familiar face poked its way through the tent. It was Alistair. Tears immediately sprung into her eyes as waves of relief washed through her mind.

“You're awake!” he exclaimed.

“You're okay!” Rose croaked back. He dropped to his knees and hugged her gently, mindful of her injuries as he placed gentle kisses on her neck and cheeks. She cried into his shoulder and thanked the Maker a dozen times. “Alistair, by the Maker, I wasn't sure of they were going you let you go!”

“Speak for yourself,” he sighed. “I thought...that you...there was so much blood...everywhere…”

“I'm alive, right? This isn't some dream? You're real?”

“I promise you, I'm real.”

“Good. That's good. How did you find me?”

“Sebastian,” Alistair said. As soon as I found the camp, we made a plan to rescue you. About a mile or two from Vigil's Keep Sebastian took off running into the woods, so we followed him and found you-”

Rose silenced him with a scorching kiss. Although surprised, he quickly responded, holding her as tight as he dared. “I love you,” she gasped, feeling tears flow freely down her face, “ _so fucking much._ ”

Alistair chuckled at her blatant profanity. “I love you too, Rosie,” he sighed, pulling her close. “I can't lose you to this damn Blight.”

“You won't. I promise.” She chuckled and allowed herself to melt in his arms. “I'm too stubborn. And I love you.”

A chuckle. “I love you, too.” Then a shuddered breath. “I love you.”

“Alistair?”

“Yeah?” he all but sobbed.

“I promise, you won't lose me.” Rose held him tighter, encouraging him to do so as well despite the wounds on her back. He needed it, and although it physically hurt her, she was more than willing to go through hell and back for him. She loved him more than anything. “Stay with me?”

“Always. In this world and the next, Rosie.”


	15. Splish Splash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair teaches Rose how to swim

Rose sat back, enjoying the warmth of the sun as Alistair, Leliana, Zevran, and Sebastian splashed around the shallow waters of Lake Calenhad. Wynne sat in the shade of a nearby tree, but Sten and Morrigan were nowhere to be found, no doubt unimpressed with the show. Rose swished her legs back and forth, feeling the kiss of the cool waters. It was their last stop before Orzammar. The summer winds had been kind, warming the rivers and lakes. Summer fever had struck all of them, even Shale, so they granted themselves a break from the tension and chaos.

“Rosie, c’mon!” Alistair laughed, running up and taking her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Enjoy the day!”

“I was enjoying it plenty from the shore, thank you very much!” she giggled. Alistair let go of her hand to fall forward into the deepening waters. Rose stopped, sinking her toes in the sandy mud of the lakebed, smiling as Leliana put her full weight on Zevran’s shoulders, dunking him beneath the waves. Alistair saw his opportunity and dunked Leliana himself, only to be pulled under by the bard. It looked like fun. 

As Sebastian busied the rogues by swimming between them with a large stick in his mouth, Alistair shook his hair dry with his hands, noticing Rose’s lack of participation. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

For a moment, she was distracted by his bare chest and the water dripping down it, but she quickly chided herself and refocused. “Nothing’s wrong,” she replied. “Why?”

“Then come on!” he said, taking her hand again.

“Alistair, no!” she gasped, her blood chilling as she dug her feet into the mud. Alistair immediately stopped, concern stricken on his face. A light blush appeared on Rose’s face along with the gentle sunburn. “I’m not comfortable going past my waist. I can’t swim, remember?”

A sweet, slightly mischievous smirk played on his lips. “Can I teach you?” he asked. “It’s really easy. I promise I won’t let you drown.” He held out his hands. Rose put hers in them, rolling her eyes playfully.

“I suppose…” she trailed off, glancing at the waters around them. “Just…” She held her arms out wide, allowing Alistair to scoop her up in his arms. She clung to his neck and tried to keep calm as the water rose around their chests. She smiled, nuzzling her face against his stubbled neck, humming in content. “I’m happy enough right here.”

“Ready?” he asked.

“No!” she giggled, looking around them. “Maker’s breath, I’m gonna drown. Alright. How do I do this?”

“Never panic, that’s important,” Alistair explained. “Just...here…” He held her a little bit away from him. “Practice kicking your legs a bit. Get a nice rhythm.” Rose complied. “Good. Then you just move your arms in time with your legs. Wide arcs. I’m gonna let you go now.”

“Alistair…” she warned, her heart racing. 

“Don’t worry.” He flashed his sweet smile. “If you can take down an ogre by yourself, then you can certainly keep yourself from drowning. We can go back if you want.”

“I can do this.” Rose was trying to assure herself more than she was Alistair. She slowly shifted out of his arms, holding his hands firmly still. Her knees were shaking as she kicked her legs. Trying to even her breathing and stay calm, she let go of Alistair’s hands suddenly, fighting to find the rhythm in her limbs that he had described.

“That’s it!” Alistair encouraged her as she clumsily attempted to swim. “Long strokes with your arms… Yeah, like that!” Rose let out a yelp that was half excitement, half fear. Alistair lifted her back into his arms, kissing her cheek. “Perfect. You’re a natural, love.”

She returned the smile he was giving her. “I have a good teacher,” she said, returning the kiss to his lips.


	16. Losing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has to comfort Alistair when he wakes up from his worst nightmare

Rose was cold. She felt it up her thighs, a bare coldness against her skin. She moaned quietly and stirred away from her pillow, pushing herself up slowly. Immediately, the blanket was returned to her body by a trembling hand. Through her daze, she heard a sniffle to her left. “Alistair?” she mumbled, reaching blindly and feeling the soft, wiry curls of his bare chest. He clutched at her hand, bringing it to his lips and holding it there as he kissed her knuckles. His breathing was uneven. “Love? What’s wrong?” She sat up and let the blankets fall once again, rubbing her eyes and peering through the dark.

“I-I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I just...go back to sleep, Rosie.”

“Not a chance,” she said. She could spot the thick tears falling from his eyes even as he tried to level his voice and steady his breathing. She held his face tenderly in her hands and thumbed away the tears. “Oh, my sweet love, what did you see?” She shifted over into his lap so he could hold her closer.

Alistair broke, clinging to her as tight as he could and openly sobbing over her shoulder. It was a bit odd, she had to admit. She had never heard him fully cry, perhaps choke it down a few times, but never witnessed just how vulnerable he could allow himself to be. Rose combed her fingers through his hare slowly, whispering all sorts of reassurances as he clung to her. She could do more than begin to guess what he had seen. She nuzzled her cheek against his neck, letting him know that she was right there with him every step of the way.

“I’m here,” she repeated, over and over. “I’m real. I love you. I’m right here. I love you.” She waited patiently as Alistair took several minutes of deep breaths, each more even than the one before. “Better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It was worse, this time. Thought I could handle it...like the others...just couldn’t do anything. Helpless.”

“I know,” she assured him sadly. Of course she knew. She had lost Alistair in her dreams more times than she cared to keep track of. “Archdemon?” With the endgame getting closer with each passing day, she assumed as much. She was surprised when he shook his head and pulled away to look at her. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks all but drenched in tears.

“Worse,” he repeated hoarsely.

“You can tell me.” She brushed away his stray locks of hair and kissed his forehead. “I’m right here.”

“Amaranthine.” Rose froze and stared at him. “Those bastards...and what you had to do...or almost did…”

Rose quickly pulled him back against her, tucking her head over his shoulder so he couldn’t see the tears that had begun to burn in her own eyes. He saw...Maker’s cursed ass, she wanted to know...but she didn’t. But she had to be strong for Alistair. She was more than what she had suffered. She grabbed his shoulders and made sure he looked at her. “Never,” she declared firmly. “That will never happen again. I am yours, and only yours. I will always be yours. Always. I love you.”

“And I love you,” he sighed. “Always.”

She kissed his cheeks lovingly and pulled him against her once more. “I’m safe with you, okay?” They sat like that for a few minutes. “Do you want to try and sleep, or-”

“Who’s on watch?” Alistair asked suddenly.

She struggled to think. “Our resident rogues, I believe.”

“Great,” he replied glumly.

Rose gave him a half-smirk. “First smart comment and I feed them to the darkspawn, remember?”

Alistair granted her a weak chuckle. “Okay. Would you mind…?”

“Coming to sit with you?” she supplied. “I wouldn’t dare say no.”

They dressed quickly into better clothes and emerged from their tent. Alistair’s hand wrapped around hers and squeezed firmly. The two rogues quickly noticed their approach. “We can take watch from here, you two,” Rose said. “Fresh air and all that.”

“If you wish,” Zevran said as Leliana nodded. They had witnessed enough of the Wardens’ late night walks and offers to take over watch to probably know that there was no arguing with them when they were tormented with their nightmares.

The two shared idle talk for the rest of the night. Mostly normal, mundane things, like how bad Alistair’s cook was, or how mine was far superior, and how they agreed never to let Zevran cook ever again. Centered mostly around good food and warm beds they had experienced over the better part of a year on the road.

“Remember that inn in South Reach?” she snickered after a moment’s silence.

Alistair chuckled and pulled her close, nuzzling his nose against her sensitive, pointed ears. She shied away from him, tickled. “How could I forget?” he hummed. “As I recall, we fought over positions.”

“What can I say?” Rose waved arily. “You are pleasurable to ride.”

“And you are pleasurable to fuck, my love.”

Rose hardly succeed in muffling her shriek of a laugh, and there was a high chance she had just woken someone up. Alistair flushed a deep shade of red, realizing what had just come out of his mouth, but the nervous, half-confident smile never left his face. “Alistair!” she hissed, holding in her laughter as best she could.  _ “Alistair!” _

“I’m not sorry.”

_ “I know you’re not, that’s what’s so funny!” _ Rose leaned forward into him and used his cloak to muffle her laughter against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and echoed her quiet laughter. “I love you,” she sighed happily.


	17. Summer Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #goals

It was a near perfect summer day. The sun was shining through parted clouds, bathing the Bannorn in yellowed rays of delightful warmth. The long grasses were green in most places. There were some dried patches, parched from the abnormally intense heat. For Alistair and rose, however, the imperfections went unnoticed. They were perfectly content lying in the tall grasses, enjoying each other’s company. 

Kissing too, that was certainly a pleasure.

Young lovers, that was what they were. Two bright and brave minds drawn together by unfortunate circumstances. They had hung back from the main group when they had stopped, ducking into the nearest patch of grass with hushed giggles and infectious smiles. It didn’t need to be anything more. Alistair pulled at her leg and she took the unspoken hint, pulling the other up as well. She smiled against his lips and found the strength and leverage to flip their positions. 

He chuckled. “Remind me to never forget how strong you are, Rosie,” he said.

“Believe me when I say I’ll never let you forget,” she said, vaguely threatening, nipping at his bottom lip. “Perfect day, huh?”

“The perfectest,” he agreed, pulling her close to his chest. She sighed and listened to his heartbeat. “Days like this remind me what we’re fighting to save.”

“Like nap time?” she yawned.

“Definitely nap time.”

Rose closed her eyes and held him tight. She had to ask, she just had to. “Alistair?”

“Hmm?”

“You meant what you said last night, right? About the Landsmeet? About us?” When he didn’t answer right away, she pushed myself up and off him, expecting to see a reserved look on his face. As it turned out, he was waiting for her to look at him. He moved so they were sitting up.

He smiled sweetly and cradled her face in one hand. “Let them try and stop me from being with you. You are the woman I love, Roselyn. Nothing will change that.” She blushed furiously and mirrored his smile. “No crown for me, I hope I can promise that.”

She launched myself at him, sending us both back into the grass as she clung to his chest. She  looked up and kissed every inch of his face she could reach. “I love you.”


	18. We'll Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose tells Alistair the full story

Sweet Maker, Rose could already feel her hangover starting to take hold of her as she slowly lifted her head from her pillow, disturbed by some noise in her room. She leaned over the edge of her bed and looked down, finding Alistair lying on his back, sound asleep with his hands resting calmly on his stomach. Propping her cheek on her hand, Rose studied him. His chest rose and fell ever so slightly as he slept quietly. His boots were unlaced, but still on his feet. All he had was a small pillow under his head for comfort, not even a blanket. He hadn’t even dressed down at all to got to sleep besides discard his half plate and unbutton his tabard.

Rose reached out and grasped one of his hands. He inhaled sharply and his eyes fluttered open. “Hey there,” she breathed. “What are you doing here? I thought you went back to the estate.”

“I did,” he replied, giving her fingers a soft squeeze. “But I worried about you. I-I know you’re with your family and that they’d take care of you, but I worried.”

She gestured to the small space between her and the wall. “Wanna hop up?” she asked. “My father trusts you enough. Shianni surely doesn’t, but oh well. We'll fit.”

“Yeah, alright,” he groaned as he sat up. He slipped out of his tabard and hung it over a chair. Rose sighed happily as he carefully stepped over her and slid in behind her, pulling her close. “I took the floor ‘cause I was worried about that. I figured...well, I saw how some of the elves were looking at me yesterday.”

“It doesn’t matter, Alistair,” she assured him, turning on her opposite side. She pressed her forehead to his chest and let out a deep exhale. “I trust you. And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The night was perfect for sleeping, but Rose could tell neither of them were on their way to it anytime soon. Alistair’s hand was pressing a divine line up and down her back, slowly rubbing away the stress she had been carrying all day. She flicked her index finger at a ruffle in his shirt. Every few minutes they would shift their legs against each other. Her toes were delightfully warm, but the blanket just barely covered both of them. It hardly mattered, seeing as Alistair was warm enough for both of them.

“The wedding never took place,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

“I know. You said that.”

“And I ruined the dress. The back was ripped open and the rest of it was covered in blood. None of my own, of course.” Alistair stayed quiet, his hand still moving across her back. “They killed Nola first. She was scared, praying to the Maker in every spare second. They took Shianni, Valora, and Nessa to...to Vaughan’s quarters. Left me. Just me.” She took a deep breath, seeing every moment as if she were living through that day again. Her wedding day. “Guard tore open the back of the dress. Found out later his hand had bruised my neck. I thought-” A strangled sob escaped her.

“Rosie-”

“No. I need to get this out. For once, let me tell the full story.”

He kissed her forehead. “Okay. I’m here.”

“I know.” She grasped at his shirt, holding the threadbare fabric in a tight fist. “Soris was the one on time that day. He slid a sword to me. It was just...red. All red. We found… His name was Nelaros. He had this...wave in his blonde hair. Just the one. Green eyes. Tall, for an elf. A total gentleman with just a hint of shyness. Our first impression was unique. Him and my father found me in the tavern, up on a table, singing sea shanties.” She chuckled quietly. “Hey, at least I started off honest. He took a knife in the heart for me. Gave me his wedding ring. I kept it...for a while.”

“What happened to it?”

“Remember that day at Redcliffe after we had come back from the Circle? We were sitting on the beach?” He hummed. “I threw them in the lake. Couldn’t bear to just drop them, couldn’t sell them. I just wanted them gone. Couldn’t bear the weight of them around my neck anymore. Gave a whole new meaning to the term ‘ball and chain.’” She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. “Vaughan… There isn’t a day that goes by that I regret shoving that sword through his chest. Never a day, no matter the consequences that followed.”

“‘Like dogs,’ I told Shianni. I killed them like dogs. Too much red, but not enough fire. They’d taken something from her I couldn’t get back. Never. And that tore me apart for months. We took them back to the Alienage. When the guard came, I took the blame, all of it. Duncan conscripted me, and...here we are.”

Alistair’s arms came around her as the tears started to fall. She sobbed against his chest for Maker knew how long. Finally,  _ finally, _ after over a year of struggles, stress, sleepless nights, and the endless fight for her life, the whole story had come out. The weight of it wasn’t completely lifted, but some of it had been chipped away, making it a little more bearable. Once she had calmed down, Rose fell asleep in Alistair’s tight embrace, thanking the Maker he was there to hold her as she broke.


	19. Up Is Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Triple trouble ensues with Rose's best Warden bois

“Oh sweet Maker, oh sweet Maker, oh sweet Maker!” Rose gripped her swords tightly and forced herself to look down into the small canyon below. “Nat...NAT! Do  _ not _ let go!”

“Oh,  _ really _ ?” he strained to say. “It was starting to seem like  _ such _ a good idea!”

“Now is not the times for jokes, Nathaniel!” Anders shouted above Rose, holding onto her ankle tightly. “But while we are,  _ don’t let me go either _ !” Rose stifled a laugh into a loud groan, feeling her blood rush to her head, blurring her vision around the edges. Nathaniel groaned as well, straining against the weight of two grown adults, even if one of them was an elf.

“I can’t...I can’t pull you two up,” Nathaniel gasped. “I could hold onto you two all damn day, but…” He grunted and said nothing else. Rose glanced up and got a look at his situation. He was face down with just his arms and shoulders over the edge of the canyon, holding onto Anders’ right leg with an iron grip, but there was no way he could maneuver his way to pull even one of us up.

“You keep holding us, you’ll break your ribs, Nat,” Anders noted. The statement settled between them all unsteadily. Rose sighed and relaxed her arms, letting them dangle. It was her fault, after all. She hadn’t seen the genlock until it slammed its shoulder into her gut and nearly sent her spiralling into the canyon. Then Anders had grabbed her. And then he started to slip. It was one big mess that should have been a nice patrol on the coast.

“I...have an idea,” Rose muttered loud enough for them to hear.

“Is it a good idea, or more of a ‘Maker, please don’t let me die’ kind of idea?” Nathaniel snapped.

“The latter. Anders, how strong are your barriers?”

“They can stop the dwarf’s battleaxe on a full swing.” There was a small stretch of silence before he started to throw a fit. “NO. No, no, no!  _ No! _ Commander, that’s insane.”

Rose looked up, scowling. “You want to wait for the next patrol? Either that, or I can tell Nat to drop us both.” As if for dramatic effect, a sharp crack sounded above us and Nathaniel cried out in pain, the sound echoing down into the canyon. “We are out of time, Anders! Do it! That’s an order!”

“Maker help us,” he muttered. “You know I can only cast when I have both hands free?”

Rose would have paled had her face not been flushed and starting to sweat. A throbbing headache raked her mind. “Well, you better pay attention then. Hurry up, because I might...pass out soon...Maker…”

Without warning, Anders took a deep breath and released her ankle. Her heart leapt from her chest and she might have screamed, but she wasn’t sure. She shut her eyes tight and prayed faster than she ever had in her life.

\---

“Commander! COMMANDER!”

Rose exhaled slowly, hesitant to move. Carefully peeling her face off the ground, she rolled on her back and looked up, blinded by the sunlight. She tried to raise her hand up, but her arms were as heavy as lead. She groaned and let it fall back to the dirt. Anders’ hand grasped at her shoulder.

“Commander?”

“Am I correcting in assuming I’m alive?” she croaked.

She heard the sound of Anders’ laughter. “She’s alright, Nat!”

“Good! Tell her I’m gonna kick her ass once she gets back up here!”


	20. Tell Me When You Get Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose does her goodbye rounds

Grey Wardens would never admit how utterly  _ grey _ some days are.. The hours drag heavier than a dead hurlock, nobody engages in the slightest hint of small talk, and the world around them is more dull than an age-old sword. At least during a Blight there was something to do. Rose found herself with only one, heart-wrenching task: leave.

Sebastian stuck to her side the entire time she finished off her packing. Buckling the last saddlebag, he whined and nuzzled her leg. She smiled sadly and kneeled down to his level. “Hey, boy,” she breathed, tears burning her eyes. “I know I promised I wouldn’t cry, but…” Rose laughed shakily. “I’m gonna have to break that one, okay? I’m sorry, boy.” Seb whined again and leaned heavily against her chest. “I know, I know, you want to come with me.”

“Fuck,” she hissed as a broken sob escaped her. “ _ Fuck. _ ” She took a deep breath and hugged him fiercely. “Alistair needs you... _ far _ more than I do, Seb. I can’t leave him here alone. Maker, it’s hard enough to leave him at all.” She pulled away and kissed his wet nose, chuckling when he returned it wish several licks. “Love you. Let’s...go say my goodbyes, I suppose.”

Varel was first. They finalized some formal work, the distribution of her daily tasks and such, then shared a short and quiet conversation about her leave. He advised that she stay at the Vigil, that the Grey Wardens of Ferelden weren’t nearly as exciting when she wasn’t around. She had laughed at that, assuring him that he would come to appreciate the quiet.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Varel said quietly, grasping her arm in farewell. “I wish you the best of luck. You  _ never _ seem to have that in short supply.”

Nathaniel had found Rose before she found him. She had been pacing for mere seconds across the floor in the main hall when he had squished her into a harsh hug without saying anything. She laughed and returned the gesture, resting her chin on his shoulder as he said, “You’d best come back, Commander.”

“I give the orders around here, Nathaniel,” Rose replied, squeezing her eyes shut as tears fell once again.

Rose couldn’t even get out a single word before she broke down crying in front of Oghren and Felsi and little Rosie. Her little goddaughter clung to her tight and kept saying, “Stay!” Rose swallowed her curses and stuttered through her goodbyes, frantically wiping away tears. Little Rosie gripped her armor tight even when she tried to shift her back into her mother’s arms.

“Please, little one,” Rose nearly pleaded, “I have to go.”

“No! Stay!”

Oghren took her instead. “Now listen up, little nug. The Commander’s goin’ off on the most important mission of her life. More important than the Blight. Hear me? Eh?”

Rosie wailed in her father’s arms, but nodded unhappily. “Wanna stay,” she blubbered.

“I know, nug. I want her to stay too.”

_ Maker’s breath, I’m a mess, _ Rose thought as she stalked glumly out to the stables. Sebastian followed closely at her side. She felt terrible. Her eyes and cheeks burned with grief. She couldn’t bring herself to even look up to the grey overcast and wish for a better day to say goodbye. It was fitting, if not a little insulting, as if the Maker Himself didn’t approve of her quest.  _ I’m doing this for all of us. But...for myself, as well. _ Was that so wrong? To wish for a few more decades? She sighed heavily and shuffled over to her horse, all saddled, fed, and ready for a long journey.

“He should go with you.” Alistair walked into the stall, folding his arms and leaning against the wall. He jerked his head toward Sebastian. “I’d feel a lot better if he was.”

Smirking sadly, she went over and slipped into his arms, holding him softly, relishing in the feel of him. The night before had been difficult. Desperation had hung in the air like a man doomed by the gallows. It had been rougher; they  _ needed _ to feel each other. To leave marks that would stay for days, to imprint promises of returns, to scar love into each other. Maker’s breath, but she loved her husband, loved him so much it made her chest swell with pain. She buried her face into his chest and half-heartedly stifled a sob.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so,  _ so _ fucking sorry. I have to go.”

“I know.  _ I know, _ Rosie.” He tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. His tears mixed with hers as they kissed slowly like the lovers they were. Maker only knew when they would get another chance to do so. Alistair broke the embrace, resting his forehead heavily on her shoulder, holding her like a vice.

“This is where I’m supposed to say something witty, isn’t it?” he breathed, dodging the shaks and cracks in his voice. “Something that’ll make sure you come back to me. Something…” Rose stroked his hair, waiting patiently. She was in no hurry to leave. “Give me a minute. I’ll...think of something.”

She closed her eyes and kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you tell me when I get back?” she suggested, her voice nearly inaudible. “Then I’ll  _ have _ to come back and find out. Maker only knows what you’ll think of.”

“I love you, Roselyn Theirin.”

She smiled, like she always did when she heard his name after hers. She was his, and he was hers. Forever, if she had her way. And she was going to try her fucking hardest to ensure that.

“I love you, Alistair Theirin.”


	21. The Cold Side of the Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depressing mornings are depressing for my girl who just wants her mans back

That morning had been grey and rainy. Quiet, but nothing like the calm before rain. The storm would never come. There wouldn’t be any grand goodbye, no watch searching for her return before nightfall, not a single report filed on time that day. The plan had been perfectly executed. No pomp and circumstance. Just a quiet slip away like she had wanted.

Then again, that day had been anything  _ but _ what she had wanted. If she were to tell it otherwise, it would be a lie. She hadn’t wanted to leave. She wished beyond words that she hadn’t had to have said goodbye to everyone. Her best friend, her honorary family and her goddaughter, her seneschal, her faithful hound. Least of all her lover, her husband. There had been tears, certainly. She had not expected the day to go without them. There are no Grey Wardens without their Blights.

She turned over to the opposite side of her bedroll, finding the covers cold and only disturbed by her own movements. She stared at it silently, waiting, hoping, but nothing changed.

Nothing --  _ nobody _ was now her bedmate. For how much longer, she couldn’t even begin to guess.


	22. Heave Their Hearts Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion I've always dreamed of

_ Alistair, _

 

_ My feet are freezing as I write this. It’s bloody annoying is what it is. It wouldn’t be so bad if it hadn’t gone and rained all damn day. As much as I didn’t want to, I stopped at an in. It’s got a funny name, so remind me to tell you when I get back. _

_ Everything’s so quiet. I know I’ve told you that before, many times, but it’s starting to annoy me. Ever since Zevran left for Antiva I’ve been hard pressed to find a conversation, a passing joke even. I miss the endless banter. Some days I read your letters out loud to myself to just remember the sound of my own voice. I can’t lie to you, love, it’s getting harder. _

_ I can’t sleep most nights. It’s almost embarrassing how often I seriously consider about turning on my heels and coming home. I miss you, my love. I miss your voice the most, I think. It used to be your smile, that cheeky little smirk you always save for me when we’re alone. It’s been so long since I’ve heard your voice. I hate beyond words to admit this to you, but it’s hard to recall, some days. It worries me. _

_ I miss you so much, my love. I miss every little bit about you. Every bed is too big without you in it. My hands are always cold without you to hold them. Every setback is so much harder to bear without you there to help me. Every day drags on so much longer knowing you can’t be here to spend them with me. _

_ I love you so much, Alistair. If you promise to wait for me, I promise I will always come back to you. _

 

_ Stay safe, my love. _

 

_ Your Rose _

\---

Alistair kept turning his love’s letter in his gloved hands, her words echoing in his ears as if she had read them aloud to him. Skyhold was alive behind him, and as much as he enjoyed it, he couldn’t be bothered to turn and watch the Inquisition work. His gaze was turned to the mountains, wondering where she was. Was she still out of contact with everyone, even Leliana? The letter in his hands had arrived months ago. The envelope and parchment were frayed at the corners. Some of the ink had flaked away but he couldn’t bring himself to re-write her words. Besides, he had already memorized every individual letter.

He tucked the letter back under his half-plate. He  _ had _ promised the empty air--every night, in fact--to wait for her. Of course he would. Always. He crossed his arms and sighed. Maker, everything she had said she missed about him, he missed about her. He loved that little half-smile she wore when watching her Wardens work train in the yard, perfecting their skills. He missed how fast she could go from being his Warden-Commander to his little, elfy wife in a heartbeat. He missed her voice as she missed his, especially those nights when her humming or singing put him to sleep after a long day.

“Warden-Constable!” A messenger approached Alistair. “You’re needed in the war room.”

He nodded. “Right, thanks.”

By the time he got there, Inquisitor Lavellan and Ambassador Montilyet were locked in a staring match from opposite sides of the war table. Lavellan was wearing a childish smile while Lady Montilyet kept her resolve, the hard lines of her mouth unmoving.

“I’d really rather not,” Suri said quietly. The smile on her lips widened. “Please, Josie.”

“Inquisitor,” Lady Montilyet started, “I’m afraid I must press for our presence at Empress Celene’s Winter Ball.”

Alistair stifled a laugh at their lighthearted argument as he took a place beside Cullen. “Do these often go like this?” he asked his former friend.

Cullen stifled a chuckle. “She hates Orlesians,” he replied. “She’s almost as Ferelden as you or me.”

There was a harsh banging at the door to the war room before another messenger burst in, completely breathless. “Wardens at the gates!” he shouted. All eyes turned to the present Warden.

“ _ I _ didn’t send for anyone!” Alistair exclaimed, following the messenger out of the room.

\---

Sunny giggled just behind Rose’s left ear. “I think I’m warming up to the whole horse idea,” she said. 

“Don’t the Dalish ride halla?” she replied.

The younger Lavellan laughed sarcastically. “The halla aren’t nearly as big as this beast.”

The horse beneath them nickered, tossing his head up once and stomping his feet as he walked. “Careful,” Rose warned her, smiling. “He’s a Ferelden Forder. They’ve got attitude.”

“Wardens at the gates!”

“Hey!” Sunny shouted, sounding offended. She grumbled something in elvhen that Rose distinctly recognized as a sour-mouthed insult. Rose suppressed a giggle. “Did you just laugh at what I said?”

“I’ve heard enough from one of my Dalish Wardens to know a dirty insult when I hear one. Especially when they’re directed at me. Alright...dismount.”

Sunny put a hand on Rose’s shoulder for balance and swung a leg off as Rose herself held the horse steady. “Oh, fuck!” Sunny’s fingers dug into Rose’s jacket and pulled the Warden to the ground. Rose slammed against the stone bodily, groaning. Her left foot was still caught in the stirrup. Sunny groaned louder beneath her, but soon started laughing. “Oh fuck me, I’m so sorry, but  _ please...get off _ !”

Rose slipped her foot free of the stirrup and rolled to the side of the younger elven woman. “I fucking hate you,” she grumbled, smiling regardless and getting to her feet, brushing her pants off. The gates of Skyhold were opening steadily. Rose grabbed the horse’s reins and led them all through. “Maker’s breath, this looks fantastic.”

Skyhold stole her breath for several seconds. For a lack of any other words, Skyhold was  _ divine _ . Everything about it was comfortable almost familiar while portraying massive strength at the same time. A small crowd of off-duty soldiers, a few servants, and even a messenger or two had stopped to see who had arrived. Rose glanced behind her. Sunny was grinning from ear-to-ear, her eyes shining with absolute delight. Rose couldn’t help but mirror it. Through the clamor, she heard a mabari yep. A distinctive, familiar yip from a distinctive, familiar mabari she knew all too well.

Rose dropped her reins and held her arms out wide so Sebastian could dart between the crowd and jumped at her, planting his paws on her chest and knocking her flat.  She was crying as he licked every inch of her face incessantly, whining brokenly. She rubbed her hands furiously up and down his body, everywhere she felt his fur.

“Sebastian!” Both the hound and Rose looked up at the sound of the voice. Tears streamed down Rose’s cheeks as she got back to her feet once again. Her knees shook. Her heart thundered. The crowd practically parted in half for the Warden she had been thinking of every day since she married the man.

Her boots tore at the ground as they ran at each other. Rose jumped into his arms with a strained sob, half-plates knocking together, locking her legs around his waist and burying her face in the crook of Alistair’s neck. He held her tighter than ever before, sobbing into her shoulder. The stayed like that for Maker only knows how long. The rest of the world could hang around them and they wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to care.

All rose could feel was the press of her husband’s body against hers and the hammering of her heart, aching painfully. His arms were clamped around her back, anchoring her. The whole Inquisition could witness her breakdown and she wouldn’t give a damn. She figured she was in a dream, that none of it was real. It was too good, how could it be real? But,  _ oh Maker, _ it  _ was _ real, wasn’t it? 

“You’re here,” Alistair finally choked out.

Rose pulled away far enough to cradle his face, thumbing his tears away. “I promised, didn’t I?” She kissed him then, the years melting away as she did the same in his arms. Alistair’s hand snaked into her loose hair, angling her head to kiss her better. His mouth tasted slightly like a sweet wine. His stubble scratched her face, but she loved it. It meant she was really there, really reunited with her husband, and  _ really _ kissing him once again.

She rested her forehead against his. “I promised,” she stated again. “I love you.”

Alistair kissed her once more. “I love you, too, Rose. So much-”

“ _ SUNNY _ ?!?”

Rose looked just in time to see Inquisitor Suri Lavellan tackle her younger sister to the ground. She laughed, tucking her head against her husband neck. “You brought the Inquisitor’s sister?” Alistair scoffed.

“Long story,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Did you miss me? Was it absolutely  _ terrible _ ?” She looked up to see his expression.

“That and more, Rosie, you know that.” His eyes were screaming with joy. His wide smile was nothing short of beautiful.


	23. Side By Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose treats the Herald's Rest with a solo performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY LET'S PRETEND THAT THEDAS HAS ACOUSTIC GUITARS!
> 
> I love Lucy Spraggan and couldn't help but put one of her songs in somewhere.
> 
> I just want everyone in Thedas to be happy, is that too much to ask, Bioware? 
> 
> "Everybody needs somebody to love."

“Rosie, please?”

She looked at her husband with a small smile. “Maryden’s doing fine on her own, Alistair, I’ll not take her spot!”

“You sing, Thorns?” Varric asked, a cheeky little smirk playing in the corners of his mouth. “Is there anything the famous Warden-Commander of Ferelden can’t do?”

“Shoot an arrow somewhat decent,” she joked, “despite Nathaniel’s attempts to teach me.”

“Maryden  _ does _ have a guitar,” Krem noted. The young man had his arm around the shoulder of the younger Lavellan sister, Sunny. Rose had to admit she loved how sweet they looked together, but she’d never say that to Sunny’s face. She’d never hear the end of it.

They were all grinning at her, but Hawke’s stood out to her. He had his head cocked at her, giving Rose that rare smile. It promised adventure, mischief, and--best of all--love. A love for anything, really, big or small. Platonic or romantic. As loud as Hawke could be, some of his smiles were perfectly small and quiet. 

“How about if I throw in five gold in the mix there, Warden-Commander?” he offered. 

Rose shook her head at all of them. “Save it for a round of drinks, Hawke,” she replied. She got to her feet and kissed the crown of Alistair’s head. “I’ll be right back.” She wandered through the almost crowded tavern, hanging out on the side as Maryden finished off a song. She went up to the bard. “I’ve been dared to sing to the tavern. Can I give you a ten minute break?”

Maryden smiled at her. “All yours, Warden-Commander,” she said. She handed her guitar over. Rose slung the strap over her head and gave her a nod and grin of thanks.

“Can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” Rose grumbled to herself, smiling regardless. She strummed the guitar a few times, testing the sound. She hadn’t played since she saw Zevran last...five months prior. Still, her fingers new the dance across the strings. She began to strum in earnest, catching the attention of most of the tavern with the different style. She shot a smile to her table of old and new friends before going off.

 

_ “Tom was born at 19:42 _

_ With eyes of blue _

_ And the doctors said _

_ That his birth was far too fast _

_ His heart stopped twice _

_ But yet he survived _

_ As he took his first breath _

_ His mother took her last _

_ And his father knew that he wasn't to blame _

_ But he never quite looked at Tom the same after that _

_ And he rarely spoke about her, but when he did _

_ He said, "Your mother used to say this:" _

 

_ "When the skies are looking bad my dear _

_ And your heart's lost all its hope _

_ After dawn there will be sunshine _

_ And all the dust will go _

_ The skies will clear my darling _

_ I'll wake up with the one I love the most _

_ And in the morning, I'll make you up _

_ Some tea and toast." _

 

_ “Well, they met through a friend _

_ Who introduced them _

_ And the first thing Tom said was, "Would you like to dance?" _

_ They moved with each other _

_ And when the music got slower _

_ He said, "Don't let go of my hand." _

_ He said, "It's only polite if I ask you tonight. _

_ Would it be alright, if I could walk you home?" _

_ That night he told her of his birth _

_ And he said when it hurt _

_ He thought about what his mother said about tea and toast.” _

 

_ “Well, two quick years went by _

_ They were side by side _

_ And without a plan they conceived a little child _

_ He said, "Woman, I love you and this you know _

_ But I only yearn enough for our food and clothes _

_ But I love you and this baby, until the day that I die." _

_ She said, "We'll take care of this little life, _

_ And we'll fall in love with her baby blue eyes, _

_ And we'll be alright from some advice that I know." _

_ She said, "I never got to meet her _

_ But if I did, I'm sure your mother would have said this:” _

 

_ "When the skies are looking bad my dear _

_ And your heart's lost all its hope _

_ After dawn there will be sunshine _

_ And all the dust will go _

_ The skies will clear my darling _

_ We’ll show this baby all the love we know _

_ And in the morning I’ll make you up _

_ Some tea and toast.” _

 

_ “Well, he took those words _

_ And he made them proud _

_ He worked day after day _

_ And hour after hour _

_ So that they could buy a little house just on the outside of town _

_ Their little girl grew up and so did they _

_ They said that they loved each other everyday _

_ And forty years later, that brings us to now _

_ And as they're walking down the street _

_ Her grip loosens on his hand _

_ He puts his arm around her side as she falls to the ground _

_ He hears her breathing, and that's the only sound _

_ Her body on the floor attracts a worried crowd _

_ Tears rolls off his face as he says "Don't let go, now." _

_ And he's sitting by her bed in the hospital ward _

_ Then their daughter walks in with a family of her own _

_ She says "Dad, I don't know if she can hear you now _

_ But there's one thing mum would want you to know." _

 

_ "When the skies are looking bad my dear _

_ And your heart's lost all its hope _

_ After dawn there will be sunshine _

_ And all the dust will go _

_ The skies will clear my darling _

_ Now it’s time for you to let go _

_ I’m gonna wake you up in the morning _

_ With some tea and toast.” _

 

The Herald’s Rest erupted into applause, making Rose blush as red as her namesake. She handed the guitar back to Maryden. She hadn’t performed for anyone in years. It had probably been fueled by alcohol at the Vigil. Alistair made his way over to her, scooping her up in his arms despite her squeal of protest. She managed to stifle a giggle as he kissed her, nuzzling her forehead lovingly.

“Where did you come from?” he hummed against the shell of her pointed ear. It twitched at the warm caress of his breath.

“Denerim,” she replied jokingly. “The Maker thought it would be funny to drop off the love of your life in the city you avoided the most.”

“And yet here we are.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to sit around while some cheesehead Grey Warden needed my help to stop the Blight.” She kissed him again, practically blurting out her next words. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Alistair’s face fell blank. His eyes darted all over her face, no doubt searching it for the hint of a bad joke. Rose’s lips curled into a smile. She wondered how long it would take him before he finally-

“What?”

Rose cradled his face, thumbing that little scar she was beginning to love. “I’m pregnant,” she repeated. “Most definitely and absolutely carrying your child as a product of the sex we’ve had.” She giggled. Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, Alistair was crushing her against him. She gasped, laughing as he squeezed her even tighter.

“Really?” he asked, pulling away. Tears were streaming down his face. “Truly?”

“Really truly,” she confirmed, brushing away his tears, hot rivers of her own falling as she leaned in to kiss him again.

\---

Rose  grinned and nestled against her husband as he swayed them back and forth, dancing in the nearly empty tavern. After two years of noise and chaos, she desired the quiet moments such as this. She wanted to take the time to close her eyes and listen to her love's heartbeat, beating for her, for them. She loved him beyond words. She loved him beyond how she could show him, prove to him how much it hurt her.

A good hurt, she always assured him, for she would settle for nothing less.

The world seemed to be stitching itself together slowly, despite the war fringing the edges. Rose was with Alistair. Suri was with Cullen. Young Sunny was with Krem. Blackwall had a fancy for Lady Josephine. The Iron Bull and Dorian had found each other. Sera and Dagna were a power couple. Hawke was back with Merrill. Everything seemed it was as it should be, and it made Rose happy. Happier than she could ever describe or express.

"You're thinking," Alistair mumbled in her hair.

"Am I now?" she teased, smiling. "What about, do you reckon?"

"Hopefully me." She laughed. "I'm serious! I'm hard pressed for a free second of thought not filled with my beautiful, talented, skilled, and utterly magnificent wife!"

"Kiss-arse," she grumbled, giggling.

"Pardon me for wanting a civil relationship with my commanding officer."

"Oh, hush up you." She looked up, receiving the kiss she was looking for without even having to ask.

She used to think that his lips were made to kiss hers, and vice versa. Now she was sure. They fit together like Wardens and their Blights. Like Inquisitors to their Inquisitions. Like Fereldans and their mabari. She was sure the Maker was struggling to make another perfect couple to compete with them, though Suri and Cullen were gaining on them rapidly. To see them both so happy was a blessing for Rose, knowing that others could find love and the good among the rubble of a ruined world they were trying to fix.

"He's gonna have your...everything," Rose said.

"Oh, so you're positive it's a boy?" he challenged her, wagging his eyebrows.

"I want it to be a boy," she replied softly. "He'll have your everything, but my eyes. He'll probably inherit your irrational obsession with your hair." She giggled at his mocked hurt expression. "Think of it, yeah? Teaching him to hold a sword properly. Telling him to keep that shield up. Giving him his first mabari. Seeing your little boy grow into the finest man Ferelden will ever be graced with."

"Now you're exaggerating it," he laughed. "Us Theirin boys are trouble. Have you ever read about my father?"

"Without him, I wouldn't have you. And I thank the Maker every day for that, trouble or no." She rested her head back on his chest. "There isn't a life I could find worth living if you weren't in it, Alistair."


	24. Naptime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who wouldn't murder someone for a perfect nap with the perfect husband?

Alistair stirred behind Rose, a sleepy sound rumbling deep in his chest. His thumb trailed back and forth on the covers above her hip. Neither of them were sleeping, but they didn’t fight the slow stupor that had fallen over them. It was mid afternoon, the sun’s light just barely ripening towards a sunset. They had escaped the Inquisition’s dealings after getting a debriefing from the other three advisors. They were tired from helping train the recruits and constantly worrying about the Wardens. Rose had yet to hear anything from Nathaniel or how the Vigil was doing. Not that she didn’t trust him to do a good job, she just happened to miss running it herself.

“You awake?” Alistair murmured.

She sighed before responding. “Mmhmm,” she hummed. “You?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm…”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Mmm.”

They shared a sleepy chuckle. There was a knock at the door. Rose immediately groaned and turned over, tucking her head against Alistair’s chest. She didn’t care who needed their help, she wanted to sleep until the next age. Well, not really, but quality cuddle time with her husband was due. She didn’t care if they now had forty or fifty more years for it. She was going to get it whenever the fuck she wanted it. The knocking continued. Alistair pulled her closer.

“Warden-Commander Theirin? Warden-Constable Theirin?”

Rose chuckled for no particular reason at the use of their surnames. The fact that they were the same but they held different titles was slightly amusing to her. She didn’t recognize the voice, meaning it was simply a messenger standing outside the door. Either by formalities or unimportance, Rose didn’t favor either eason, so she didn’t answer.

“Think he’ll go away?” she breathed.

“Mmm.” That meant maybe.  If it was a messenger, they wouldn’t dare open the door. Perhaps he would assume they weren’t even in the room. When her questions finally ceased, she realized he had gone. Quiet blanketed the room once again. Rose raised her head to place a lazy kiss on her husband’s chin. He hummed in response.

“I love you, too,” she scoffed quietly.


	25. His Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair cares for his son while Rose gets some rest

He loved seeing her like this: content. Wrapped up in blankets, face perfectly mashed into a pillow, expression as calm as a morning lake. Rose slept contentedly as Alistair, her husband, kept their child in the same state.

Rose had fought sleep like she fought the darkspawn: with determination and a demon-like stamina. She finally had to relent after almost nodding off with their child in her arms. She had apologized, but Alistair had found it funny.

Rose had always shrugged off the idea of a family, regarding her unchallenged skill at it, the work and the responsibility, and all sorts of things that gave her no credit. Alistair knew he had been no different, and the idea had passed between them like a light-hearted joke. After all, they always considered their Ferelden Wardens kids enough. Their friends had always been the only family they needed.

But now, with his son sleeping away in his strong arms, he found something that he _wanted_. A wife, he had. A home, he had. A son...he had now. The very thought of how perfect his life had turned out brought tears to his eyes.

 _“I already have a name for him,”_ Rose had said _far_ before their son had been brought into the world.

 _“What, and I have no say?”_ he had joked back. She had smiled at him then, as if relishing in an inside joke. Tears had brimmed in her eyes as she pulled him close to kiss him deeply.

_“Duncan.”_

In the present, Alistair craned his neck to the ceiling as his tears finally came, running freely from the corners of his eyes. His love probably knew him better than himself. The years he had spent and would spend with her will never be enough, he thought.

He loved her.

And she loved him.

“Alistair…? Why are you staring at the ceiling?”

He smirked. Yes, he loved her.


	26. 9:48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The season's first snow at Vigil's Keep

The door to their room crashed open, excited little voice following the intrusion. Rose turned out of Alistair’s embrace onto her back, inhaling deeply, still a little drunk on a good night’s sleep. Alistair groaned and pulled the covers well over both of them, gathering Rose up in his arms again despite her giggling protest. There was soon a battle for the blankets. Alistair kept one firm arm around his wife and the other trapping the blankets, smirking despite the assault of their kids.

“Our bed has been invaded,” he mumbled in her ear.

“Utterly infested,” she agreed. Alistair gasped suddenly, signaling that one of their sons had stomped on his gut somewhere. Rose laughed, pulling the covers back down.

“It’s here!” Duncan exclaimed in their faces, jumping off the bed and racing to the window. Rory quickly followed him, both jumping on their toes as they stared out the glass panes.

Rose was the first out of bed, scooping up little four-year-old Riordan into her arms as she joined her sons at the window. The lands of Amaranthine were blanketed in fluffy, pure white snow that was falling at a lazy rate. She could already spot a few groups of soldiers and Wardens alike clearing it out of the courtyards and walkways on the battlements. She grinned and looked at the son in her arms. “What do you think, Rory?” she asked.

“It’s cold,” he said.

“Cold!” Alistair exclaimed from across the room, slipping into a shirt. “My son, a born and bred Fereldan, complaining it’s cold!” He laughed and tousled Rory’s hair. “Looks like some fun training ahead of us.”

Rose grinned wickedly. “We just got that Antivan Warden last week for winter training.” She chuckled. “She’s gonna hate me by the end of the week. I can practically hear her spouting off in Antivan at this very moment.”

Alistair scoffed at his wife and kissed the crown of her head. “Well, staring at it won’t make it any more pleasant. Ready to go, boys?”

“Is this you abandoning me to wake up and take care of the twins?” Rose asked cleverly, setting Rory back down and watching fondly as the boys swarmed their father’s legs.

Alistair gasped dramatically and pressed a hand over his heart. “Your words do wound me, lovely wife!” he exclaimed. He paused for a moment, hardly moving, studying her playfully stern face. “Boys, run!” He dashed out of the room, Duncan and Rory scampering after him, nearly shrieking with laughter.

“He’s fucking thirty-seven,” she laughed, her heart swelling with adoration for her husband.


End file.
